Let It Be Me
by mutt712
Summary: "I'm so sick of Hermione ending up with Draco and his child from another marriage." - This is exactly what this story isn't! Can Draco Malfoy convince Hermione Granger that he's the man for her broken family? M for future chapters!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello friends! Been tinkering with this idea ever since someone wrote a review along the lines of - "I'm so sick of Hermione ending up with Draco and his child from another marriage."**

**Let's see how it might work with this plot! Leave me your reviews and thoughts please! And I promise I'm working on my other story too, so dont fret :)  
**

**as usual, anything recognizable from the harry potter universe belongs to j.k rowling. writing for fun, absolutely non-profitable.**

* * *

"Car."

"Yes, love, car."

"Ch-Ch-ch-chooo!"

"That's a train, honey," Hermione said, tucking a strand of red hair behind her daughter's ear. "A car goes _vroom_! A train goes -"

"Chooo!"

"Hermione?" Norah peered in, watching her daughter holding little Rosie in her lap. "Do you want some lunch? I've already got some prepared for Rosie…"

Hermione felt how forced her smile was. She had to flex her cheek muscles just to make sure she was actually smiling and not in a perpetual grimace. "Thanks, Mum – lunch sounds just about wonderful, actually. We'll be down in a minute or so, is that okay?"

Norah nodded. "Definitely. You should just make sure you get some food before Harry arrives."

"I will, Mum," Hermione replied as her mother eased the door shut once more.

Hermione carefully pried the crayons from her daughter's hands, taking careful care not to upset her. Reaching for the wet wipes on her bed, Hermione pulled out a piece and began to clean her daughter's fingers.

"Yuk, Mummy," Rosie said, scrunching up her nose.

"Yuck," Hermione repeated, nodding. Merlin, what was up with her! Why was she repeating everything Rosie said? On any other day, she would have chided parents who did that – it didn't improve the vocabulary of the child when the parents repeated after the child. "We're cleaning up," Hermione said, trying to inject more life into her voice. "And _then_ we're going to have some lunch! Does that sound good, Rose?"

Rosie didn't reply, and this left Hermione free to allow her mind to wonder – not that this was a good thing, of course. Every time she replayed the scene in her head, she felt herself go through three things: First, she'd cringe, then she'd feel the overwhelming guilt settling in and she'd feel tempted to cry, but lastly, she'd feel such a blaze of anger, that it dried up her tears.

_It would have been a normal day – work, picking up groceries and then home. Except that nothing about that day was remotely normal. First off, Hermione had decided to come home early – the last few weeks had been tough on Ron and Rosie, and she didn't want it to escalate any further._

_She'd chosen to Floo home instead after doing her shopping in Diagon Alley. Steak and potatoes - the perfect make-up meal when she and Ron had one of their rows. Speaking of which, Hermione couldn't recall what the latest row was about. They had had rows so frequently over the past few years about anything and lately – everything._

_Putting the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table, Hermione caught sight of the broken mug, still there from yesterday. Ah, she thought. It was coming back to her. They'd fought because Ron said she was getting too serious about her ambition as a 'career witch'. Wasn't it enough that he'd stayed home for over eight months, letting her 'try' her hand at working? What sort of mother was she, to leave her daughter and husband while she went out to have late business meets at the pub – meeting strange blokes._

"_Who knows," Ron had shouted, "what sort of disease you bring home, kissing Rosie with that mouth –"_

"_Stop," Hermione said, holing up her hand. "Don't you dare –"_

"_Fucking whore," Ron had muttered, ignoring the hurt that was apparent on Hermione's face._

"_I work to feed our family, Ronald –"_

"_Don't give me that bullshit! We have enough from the Ministry to live off till Rosie has grandkids!"_

"_And if it finishes?" Hermione yelled, her hair now falling apart from it's usual neat bun. "At least I'm trying to put food on the table! You simply quit Auror training when it got hard – Ahhhhh!"_

_Ron had flung an empty coffee mug across the kitchen. It wasn't in her direction, but the shattering of the mug was loud enough to emanate a scream from Hermione._

"_You're going to wake Rosie!" Hermione hissed, looking out of the kitchen. _

"_I told you," he said vehemently, "I didn't quit – I resigned because the training was too risky and I'd wanted to be around Rosie more. I told you!"_

"_Bullshit."_

"_Fuck you, Hermione."_

_Hermione watched as the man before her stared her down – his once warm and friend blue eyes now distant and cold. It made her choke, just to think that her husband held that much spite for her._

"_Ronald," she'd pleaded, "please, I'm doing this for us – you me and Rosie…"_

_Ron had stalked off, careful not to look at her on his way out. It was always the same. She'd end up trying to make it better because she'd see a flash of the boy she'd grown to love all those years ago. And she'd try to reel out that part of Ron, that seemed to be missing over the past few months._

_She sighed, clearing her head of the ugly scenes from yesterday. Pulling out the bag of potatoes, she'd heard a sound – which reminded her of Apparating. Frowning, she quickly wiped her hands on the dishtowel beside her and made her way into the living room._

_Nobody – only the sound of her heart beating rapidly in her ears. Crack! Crack! Crack! Hermione wrapped her fingers around her wand and quickly walked over to the study – the only room with a door that was ajar._

_Crack!_

"_I suppose you're going to take after your mother, the useless woman. Couldn't cook to save a man's life!"_

_Crack!_

"_You'll hate me now, but this is the only way you'll understand that the proper place of a woman – Crack! – is in the kitchen. Doesn't fucking matter if you've defeated a Dark Lord, understand?"_

_Crack!_

_Hermione sped up now, feeling bile rise up in her throat. She knew that sound so well – it was never in her home, but she had had friends from primary school who'd gone through that. _

_She was shaking with fury and she didn't wait to reach the study. Blasting the door open with her wand, Hermione saw Ron seated on the wooden chair that they'd picked out together, Rosie bent over his knees, bottom bared. _

_Her face was scrunched up and red, her curls spilling about. Hermione could see her crying but there was no sound. He'd Silenced his daughter. Bastard._

"_You bastard!" Hermione screamed, as she Petrified him with a non verbal spell. Collecting her daughter, Hermione removed the Silencing Spell to hear Rosie's wails that were loud and painful._

_She didn't turn around, instead, she grabbed Ron's wand from the desk and hoisted her daughter gently up her in her arms. Walking quickly to the Floo, Hermione shouted the one place where she knew she could reveal her problems without any judging._

* * *

Hermione felt big, fat dollops of tears cascading down her cheek as she recalled this. Quickly wiping back her tears, she gently placed Rosie across her lap, pushing her dress up to see how bad the damage was after nearly two hours.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione looked down to see great ugly welts that were still present on her daughter's bottom. What had this poor girl done to deserve this?

Grabbing the Aloe Vera gel that her mother had passed to her, Hermione gently applied it to the sore parts of her daughter's bottom. Rosie squirmed and wriggled.

"Hold still, honey," Hermione said, applying the soothing gel to the last of the welts. "I promise we'll be done soon…"

"Ow," Rosie said, her bright blue eyes already filling with tears. "Ow, Mummy…"

"Shh," Hermione said, pulling her underpants back into place. "Shh, it's okay, darling…"

Ten minutes later, Hermione came down the stairs to meet her parents only to come face to face with Harry. Rosie immediately stuck out an arm to him, smiling slightly as she reached for his glasses as always.

"Hey," Harry said, looking somber. His green eyes seemed all that more shocking without his glasses. "I came here as soon as I could. Ginny too – she's in the kitchen with your parents."

"Right," Hermione said, her voice catching in her throat. "Well, you didn't have too, I could have handled it just fine, Harry."

"'Mione," Harry said wearily. "You're my bestfriend. I'm not going to let you go through this alone…" Harry cocked his head slightly, looking over his shoulder. "Besides, you think Ginny will allow me to stay put though all this?"

Hermione let out a weak laugh, surprising herself. She didn't think she was capable of laughing. Harry took Rosie out of her hands, carefully placing his hands under her knees instead of under her bottom. So her parents had filled him in, Hermione thought. Great. She didn't think she could stomach repeating what she saw.

"Come on," Harry said, placing his other hand around her shoulder as he squeezed it lightly. Hermione nodded mutely as he steered her towards the kitchen.

"Hey," Ginny said softly, swiftly walking around her parents to embrace her in a hug. "I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. I swear, I'll make sure he suffers, damn bloody – "

"Ginny," Hermione said tears filling up her eyes once more. She really didn't need to hear how other people were going to take care of her. "It's okay…"

"No," Ginny said fiercely. "It _isn't_."

"I know," Hermione said quickly. "I meant, it's okay for you to not be angry – he's your brother, after all…"

"Rosie's my niece," Ginny said slowly. "And he _hurt_ her. I – I –" Ginny stopped as her voice caught. "I'm just ashamed to say that he's related to me."

Hermione nodded – once again at a loss for words. What was she supposed to tell the woman who was ashamed to be related to her own brother? It's alright, he's _only _a child beater?

"Let's sit down," David said, glancing at his daughter and then Ginny. David thought that the last thing this family needed was another crying session. He didn't think he could take watching Hermione cry again.

Hermione moved over to help Rosie into her baby chair that was now lined with a soft neck pillow. Hermione felt her heart twinge painfully when she saw Rosie's grimace as she sat down in her chair.

"So," Harry said as they sat down, "we need to talk about a few things, Hermione…"

Hermione was in the middle of piling some salad onto her plate – not that she was really hungry anyway, she'd just wanted her hands to be busy so they'd stop trembling.

"Harry…" Ginny said softly from his side, "Can't it – can't it wait till she's done eating?"

Norah frowned, protectively covering her hand across Hermione's. "Ginny's right, Harry…can't it wait till after we're done eating?"

"I would really like to never talk about it again," Hermione chipped in, her voice tired and heavy. She saw four pairs of eyes directed at her, but she kept her gaze steady as she looked at Rosie, who was happily slurping her spaghetti. Brushing her hand over her wild curls, Hermione felt some form of calm spreading over her.

"But that isn't an option."

This voice, Hermione recognized. It didn't belong to her parents, Harry or Ginny. It was cool and calm, and the only notable difference was that it had lost its usual sneer.

"Draco," Harry said, rising from his chair to briefly clasp hands with him. "You got my memo, then?"

Draco nodded as he confirmed this. "I got it and immediately Flooed over…" Turning to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Draco politely offered his hand out to them, smiling as he did. This struck Hermione as odd, she couldn't remember when Draco last smiled. It was always a smirk. "Draco Malfoy," he said, now pumping David's hand. "I work for the Department of Troubled Youth and Families, and Harry put me on this case…"

"Rosie's _not_ troubled," Hermione said, looking at the man before her. What in the name of Merlin possessed him to come all the way here? In her parent's house? She knew that Harry and Draco shared something of a friendship, but that had been between the both of them – Hermione hadn't pried and Harry hadn't said anything.

"I know," Draco said, catching on her defensive tone. "But she's been through an ordeal, and I if I could extract a memory I could well make sure that her father – whom I'm assuming did this – is dealt the proper punishment."

"So they set up a position in the Ministry to get people like to extract memories?"

"That, amongst other things," Draco replied smoothly.

The tension in the room had tripled in a matter of seconds.

"What makes you_ think _I'm going to allow you to be alone with my daughter?" Hermione was put of her seat now, and she rounded on Harry. "Are you mad, Harry? Do I _look_ like the sort of person who will trust just anybody?"

"Honey," David's voice was loud and even, "Nobody's asking you leave Rosie alone. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is of upstanding –"

Hermione snorted derisively. "His aunt tortured me, Dad. Really upstanding roots there."

"Hermione, come on…" Ginny said, feeling the pinch.

"I just don't see why –"

"Of course you don't," Draco said, looking into her eyes. Hermione felt a chill spread through out her body. "The point of getting the memory, sentencing your husband – all of this so that you can deal with the ordeal properly and move on with life.

"I'm supposed to be over at another house, right now – teenage wizard, beaten nearly to death by is mother with a broomstick. I'm supposed to be extracting his memory –"

"So go."

"But I came here because Harry left a nearly a thousand memos each claiming how urgent your case was, so I'd Flooed directly over instead."

Harry turned bright red at this, and he studiously avoided Hermione's gaze as he scratched the back of his neck. "I was worried," he mumbled.

"You left enough memos to paper my entire desk," Draco said flatly.

"Don't do me any favours," Hermione snapped, quite unsure of what had come over her. Of course it was like Draco bloody Malfoy. Coming over to interrupt lunch, to spin the day according to how _he_ wanted it. Of all people, why did Harry have to call him? It drove her crazy with frustration. "Rosie and I are fine."

Hermione quickly picked up her protesting daughter, ignoring her growling stomach as she walked out of the kitchen back into her room.

* * *

It must have been almost an hour before they gave up pounding on the door. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Who was she kidding, she thought. She had figured that lunch would be a small affair. She didn't think that Harry was going to call on the Department of Youth and Troubled Families.

What, did they think she couldn't fend for herself now? Ron was a pig – but that didn't mean they all needed to crowd around her and make her decisions. Of course she was going to report him – she just didn't want to do it today.

"Granger…"

This surprised her. She hadn't expected Malfoy to try and come up to placate her.

"Please, can I come in a moment? Just me, just a quick word…"

Maybe it was his voice – or just because he didn't know her the way Harry, Ginny and her parents did. His voice didn't carry pity, and Hermione recalled earlier how his eyes – it didn't give her the _look_. He looked at her concernedly – but not pityingly.

Grudgingly, Hermione unlocked the door without turning. It was something she was getting exceptionally good at – non-verbal magic.

A moment later, Hermione heard the door open and shut, and she supposed Malfoy had eased himself in.

"Here," he said, sitting down next to her on the carpet, where she was watching Rosie colour. "I didn't know what you liked but I took a little of everything. Figured you could use it…"

"Thanks," Hermione said, willing herself to look normal. Of course it wasn't normal. Draco Malfoy bringing her food? Ron the child abuser? Was the world turning upside down?

"Listen, Granger…" Malfoy began and then stopped abruptly. "I – I know I'm not the person you're looking for. But I get my work done pretty smoothly. I get the best verdicts for the abusers – I make sure there are no loopholes when the verdict is delivered…well, the bottom line is, people usually want me when they have a case similar to yours."

"You don't even like children - you're not married," Hermione said, pulling the plate of food closer to her. Her stomach rumbled as she did and only then did she realize how hungry she was.

"Not true," Malfoy replied. "About the children part anyway. Look, I'm not here to convince you I love kids, I'm the best caretaker in the world whatsoever. I'm here to tell you, the sooner we have Rosie's memories, the faster we can set up Weasley for trail, the faster I can put things right for you."

"But I can do it on my own."

"You can," Malfoy countered. "But it would take weeks before your report even reached my desk. But I'm here now – and I want to help you –"

"_Why_?"

"You need help, and I can give it. Not very complicated is it?"

"It is, really. You spend half your life hating me –"

"I didn't hate you, Granger," Malfoy said quietly. "Merlin, for someone so smart…I was _envious_. You were everything a Pureblood should have been. It came to you so easily – class, brains, popularity…"

"You envied me."

"Yeah."

They were both quiet for a little while and Rosie turned her head to the new stranger. Putting down her crayon, she carefully toddled over to Malfoy, picking up a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Examining it closely, she giggled and tugged on it, as though to see if it was real.

"I don't like talking about it," Hermione said, looking at anywhere but Draco.

"I know," Malfoy said simply. "Which is why the faster you get it out of your system, the less you have to talk about it to others – you've got me for that."

"I don't know if I can trust you…"

"I know. But right now, I'm your only option, so you better hold on tight, Granger."

Rosie had given up on pulling at Malfoy's hair. Instead, she had dragged over her colouring book and crayons and pressed one crayon into Malfoy's hand. Plopping own and wincing slightly, Rosie began to colour as Hermione looked on. It was a bizarre situation – her daughter colouring with her arch enemy, but in that moment, all Hermione noticed was the bright smile that lit her daughter's face once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**hello folks! it seemed as tho you guys approve of this storyline, so i'm going to keep it :) **

**hope everyone's having a good day! **

**disclaimer: nothing from the harry potter universe belongs to me, it belongs to the amazing j.k rowling. im writing for fun, no profitable purposes!**

* * *

Hermione woke up to the sound of a spluttering lawnmower. Her eyes blearily adjusted to the light that was streaming through her window. For a moment, she felt a surge of panic, not recognizing where she was.

Looking down, she spotted a mass of red and her heart hammered a little less frantically. So Rosie was ok , she thought. Slowly slipping out of bed, Hermione walked overt to her old dresser to pick up a hairbrush.

She spotted a picture, sticking on the side of the mirror. Reaching out she traced the faces of her bestfriends. One had grown into a man, who was an exemplary father and role model. The other: allowed his jealousy to overpower his rational thinking.

She sighed and turned away from the mirror. Even looking at pictures of Ron felt like it was too much right now. She wondered how she was going to face him at trial? Draco did mention there was going to be a trial.

She snorted. _Draco_. Amidst their talking yesterday, they'd fallen into the practice of addressing one another by their first name. Occasionally, Draco lapsed back into his old ways, calling her _Granger_. But it was without vehemence, and it sounded perfectly normal.

Hermione left her bedroom and let the door fall silently shut. There was no point waking Rosie up earlier than need be. She was tired from the day's events and Hermione figured it was perfectly fine if she slept in.

"Good morning, love."

Trudging down the last of the steps, Hermione saw her father sitting on the couch, enjoying his morning paper.

"Morning, Dad," Hermione replied, failing miserably to stifle a huge yawn. Her father smiled at her when he noticed this. She couldn't help but smile back at the one man who she knew would never cause her harm.

"Sleep well?" He asked, now folding her paper and putting it aside.

"Not really," Hermione admitted, stretching her arms over her head. She spent the better half of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. When she finally did, she kept of jerking awake suddenly, sticky with perspiration.

"Well, when all this is over you will. Just like after the war. You'll get your footing eventually love, you always do," David said, nodding his head knowingly. "You have a visitor, by the way…in the kitchen. Your mother is fattening him up as we speak."

Visitor? Her father never referred to Harry as a visitor. Harry was simply…Harry. For a moment, Hermione felt her heart sank. Was it Ron in the kitchen? _How_ could her parents have _allowed_ the bastard to step in? Hermione took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen, preparing her self for the worse.

"It's not that complicated, Mrs. Granger. Once we have the memory from Rose we'll be able to set Ron up for trail..."

_Of course. _She let go of the breath she was holding in.

"That makes you sort of a police _and_ a lawyer, then? Since you are gathering evidence yourself _and_ representing Hermione in a trial? Here, have more eggs, your plate is nearly empty…"

"Good morning," Hermione said, announcing herself. Her mother smiled and nodded in the direction of the French Press where freshly brewed coffee was sitting, waiting to be poured into a cup. "What brings you in so early? I thought we were meeting after lunch?"

"Oh honey, it wasn't a fuss," Norah said, smiling a little disapproving ly at her daughter for being so direct.

"We were," Draco said, turning around to answer Hermione. "But the faster I gather the evidence, the lesser time your husband spends freely roaming the streets. I don't really like the idea of someone who's guilty of hitting a child walking freely around."

Hermione saw her mother pursing her lips, not a single word escaping. She knew how her mother felt about Ron. She was never a big fan, but she respected Hermione's decision. She adored Rosie and she never taught the little girl to hate her father.

"Ron's not dangerous," Hermione said offhandedly, before even realizing how stupid that must have sounded aloud. Was she defending the man who had hit her daughter so brutally? "He's just – he's…_misdirected_."

Draco let out a short, dry laugh. "Misdirected was me. Weasley's sick. Anyone who hurt their own child was – _is - _sick." Hermione stared at him, not particularly enjoying his witty remarks this morning. "Like my father," he added.

"Your father hit you?" Norah asked now, looking at him.

"He didn't _hit_ me. He pushed me into the direction of death so willingly." Draco said. "A different kind of abuse, if you will. Which is why I took on this job, I don't think kids should have to suffer."

Hermione silently sipped her coffee as he said this, trying to progress what was coming out of his mouth. Why was he revealing this little parts of himself? To her_ mother_ of all people?

"Look who I found," David said, coming in with a sleepy Rose who sighing contently against his chest. Her eyes were bright and open, and Hermione wondered if she even remembered the ordeal from yesterday? How was it that kids forgot things so fast?

Setting her coffee mug aside, Hermione collected her daughter from her father's arms, deeply inhaling her scent as she did so.

"Hello? Is anybody home?" The voice came though the kitchen, loud and clear, and David and Norah exchanged looks as if to say, _Who could that be?_

"In here," Hermione called, frowning herself.

Seconds later, the tall form of George Weasley appeared. David recoiled slightly, immediately mistaking the red hair as the same mop that belonged to his son-in-law.

"Hullo," George said, nodding at David, Norah and then Draco. Turning to Hermione, he enveloped her in a hug, not caring that Rosie was sandwiched in between. "I came over as soon as I heard, Hermione. Ginny just told us. Mum is mad livid. She's just about to go over and give Ron a piece of her mind."

"Oh George," Hermione said, sighing. She could really do without the tidbits of information on how everyone was pitying her and trying to rush to her rescue. She was grateful, but she really didn't like being pitied.

"Hey," George said. "You're family to us. Nobody should hurt you. Or my baby niece for that matter. And if they do, we're going to give them a good kick in the nuts, ok?"

"Alright," Hermione said, smiling slightly. "Thanks, George. That means a lot, really."

"I'm sorry to have interrupted breakfast," George said, looking around at the kitchen. "I just want Hermione to know we're behind her one hundred percent."

David nodded at this and Norah wiped her eyes on her apron not so discreetly. Draco merely looked on, his face unreadable.

George was back out of the kitchen now. Glancing at Hermione one last time, he said, "We're here for you, Hermione. Give us a shout if you need us, alright?"

Before Hermione could reply he had set up the Floo connection again, whirling to wherever it was that he was going. "Maybe I should suspend the Floo connection to this house…" Hermione said.

"No," Norah said, sniffling. "We like it…don't we, David?" She turned, looking at her husband, who placed his arms around her shoulders, gently steering her out of the kitchen before she broke into sobs.

"It's alright, honey…" He was saying as he walked her up the stairs.

"She's so _young_," Her mother was saying now. "So strong…"

Hermione sighed tiredly, leaning against the counter as Rose yawned. Her life was on public display. People were coming around telling her how _sorry_ they were.

She had an abusive husband. She had a husband who didn't understand how to be a proper father. So? She'd deal with it. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at Draco, wondering if he pitied her even more now, after witnessing that little incident.

As she expected, he didn't. His face was neutral. He was making the grimace that everyone made whenever they saw her. His gaze was steady and he looked at her normally.

"Are you ready to get this moving, Granger?"

"I am," Hermione said, her voice so strong it surprised her. Then again, it only made sense that she had to be extra strong. Once for herself and once more for Rose.

* * *

Thirty minutes later found Draco and Hermione up in David's study, with Rosie puttering around, stacking her blocks as high as they would go. Each time they crashed, Draco would help her gather the pieces, stacking them up with her. It was him, who suggested that instead of extracting the memory by force, they should make Rose give it gently.

Hermione was doubtful – how do you convey to a three year old to please recount how her father had hurt her?

"Dwaco," Rosie said now, pointing at Draco.

"Rose," Draco said, pointing back at her. Rose laughed, pinching his nose.

Hermione looked on, unsure of where all of this was leading to. Rose sat down and Hermione caught a slight look of discomfort on her face once again. The stings on her bottom were quite bad and even with liberal amounts of healing creams she applied to the ugly welts; it apparently didn't make much difference.

"Ouch?" Draco asked, looking at Rose.

"Ouchie," she confirmed, looking somber.

Draco nodded almost imperceptibly, reaching for his wand. Placing it at her temple, Hermione was shocked to see thick silvery material floating out from it. Hermione thought she might have needed to Conjure a vial, but it seemed that Draco came prepared for this. He took out a small bottle and siphoned the silvery material into it.

Other than looking up once or twice, Rose did not really seem all that bothered than her memory was being extracted.

"How did you – " Hermione began but only to stop halfway because Draco held up his hand momentarily as he corked the bottle in his fingers.

When he was ready to look up, he addressed Hermione as though nothing had happened. "Do you think your parents could watch Rose for a while? Say twenty minutes?"

"They could," Hermione said. "But I'd rather them not…"

"Why? You don't trust your parents or something?"

No, Hermione thought, I don't trust anybody actually. Out loud, she said, "I just don't think I should trouble them."

"Granger…"

"Fine," she conceded. "But only for twenty minutes, ok? I – I'm just not comfortable with leaving her alone right now…"

"Twenty minutes is all I need," Draco said, now standing up.

"Where are we going that we can't take Rose with us?" Hermione asked, frowning. "I'm _not _going to the Ministry right now – the Press will be allover this and I just haven't got the strength to deal with it today."

"We aren't," Draco said shortly, making no effort to actually tell her where they were going. Picking Rose up he looked at Hermione. "Come on," he said, jerking his head towards the door.

Hermione was too astounded by the simple gesture of him picking up Rose that she just nodded and followed him out of her father's study.

The moment they entered the sitting room, Norah was fast on her feet and David was looking anxiously at both of them.

"Is she hurt?" Norah asked, reaching forward to take Rose from Draco. "Did everything go alright?"

"Norah, let them breathe…" David said, grasping her other hand and squeezing it gently. "Rose looks fine. She is, isn't she?" he asked, now looking at Draco.

"She is," Draco said. "But we need your help."

"Anything," David said without missing a beat.

Hermione looked at her parents who were already fraught with worry and wondered how she had it in her to ask more from them. "Could you watch Rose? For about fifteen minutes, say?"

"Absolutely, honey," Norah said now, "but is everything ok?"

"It will be," Draco said, already tugging at Hermione's arm towards the fireplace.

Hermione quickly leaned over, placing a kiss on Rose's cheek. "Mummy will be back soon, okay, darling?"

Whatever it was that Rosie felt, she didn't say, because she simply stared as Hermione followed Draco to the fireplace. Blowing a kiss at her daughter, the last thing Hermione saw were her parents, anxiously hugging her daughter while Rose herself looked on sadly, as if to say – what in the world is happening?

* * *

"Malfoy, you didn't tell me we were coming to your _house_!" Hermione hissed, trailing behind the blonde as they walked along a carpeted hallway.

"Oh, we're back to last names now, Granger?" Draco said, not even bothering to turn around.

"You _lied_ to me! You said we weren't going to the Manor!"

"And so we didn't – because I don't live there anymore. I live here now. And would you lower you voice –"

"_You_ live in Muggle London in a _town house?_"

"Granger," Draco warned. "Keep your voice down." He stopped suddenly, causing Hermione to stumble into his frame. "And I live up in Muggle London because it means that nobody will spend their time staring at me, whispering, saying nasty things. It _also_ means that my parents are free to take a walk in their garden without the press flinging dung bombs at them!"

"Now really, Draco, nobody threw nasty dung bombs at us. Manure, old caldron pots yes, but not dung bombs…" Narcissa Malfoy stood at the doorway of the room nearest to them. Hermione saw Draco sigh irritably before looking at his mother.

"Mother," he said, his voice clipped. "Why are you in my office again?"

"I was just tidying up," Narcissa replied coolly, her eyes raking over Hermione. "No need to sound so ungrateful, darling. A simple thanks would suffice…"

Narcissa pushed herself off the doorframe and walked towards Draco, stopping in front of him to place a kiss on his cheek before she swept past Hermione without so much as a glance. Cold, evil, _vile _woman, Hermione thought.

"Come on," Draco said, breaking into her train of thoughts. He led her to the room that was just a short distance away. "In here."

Hermione followed him in and shut the door gently behind her. Draco was emptying the contents of the vial into a stone basin. A Pensieve, Hermione thought. He's going to show me what Rosie recalled.

"Wait," she said, as Draco held out a hand to her, ready to plunge into Rosie's memories. "How did you know that Rosie was thinking about this?"

Draco shrugged. "It's the timing. She was in pain when she sat down, which meant some part of her hippocampus replayed the memory of _how_ she got hurt. It's basic psychology. Like if you touch a burning kettle and hurt your finger, you'd associate that sort of pain with touching a burning kettle. I simply took out the memory when she was hurting from the abuse."

"Right," Hermione said, nodding. "You studied Muggle Psychology?"

"Merlin, no," Draco said. "I wanted to, but there was not much use for that in our world. So I studied Advance Psychology of Wizards. It's a course offered at the Ministry. I knew it would come in handy when I was dealing with kids."

Draco looked at the memories that were swirling around the basin and then he locked eyes with Hermione. "Are you ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think I am."

Taking a firm grip on her arm, Draco tipped them both forward into the basin, and Hermione felt the office scenery around her dissolve and she appeared back in her living room.

Rosie was sitting on the couch, watching her favourite noon time cartoon on the television. Ron walked into the room and eyed her before walking over to the couch himself.

"Dada" Rosie said, holing out her hands to him.

"Shut up," Ron snapped. Reaching down, he picked Rosie up from under her arms and dropped her to the ground, where she landed neatly on her bottom.

Hermione let out a shriek rushing forward to pick her daughter up, only to realize that she couldn't.

Ron turned to the crying child now and aimed his wand, muttering a quick _Silencio_ before switching his attention back to the telly.

Hermione was crying, but the scene dissolved now, and they were in Rosie's room.

"Uh oh," Rosie said, looking at the load of baby powder that she had knocked over.

"Rosie!" Ron shouted as he walked into the room. He spied the mess on the floor and he looked at his daughter. "What," he said, picking Rosie up and going over to the bed, "did Daddy tell you about being a naughty girl? Your useless mother isn't going to mop up this mess – _I _have to do it!"

Rosie giggled happily, thinking Ron was playing a game with her. Suddenly, he yanked down her pants and picked up his wand. Rapping her smartly over her bottom, Ron ignored the shrill cries that filled the room.

"You bastard!" Hermione screamed, once again, running forward to try and help her daughter. "You bastard, Ronald Weasley!"

The scene dissolved again and they were back in Ron's study, which meant that Hermione had already seen this.

"Come on," Draco said quietly beside her. "There's no need to see this, Granger, come on…"

Hermione screamed and kicked as Draco pulled her out of the Pensieve. She was still screaming and kicking when they were back in his office.

"He's been doing it for months!" Hermione shouted, not caring if she woke the entire house. "The dress Rosie was wearing in the living room, I bought it for her in January. It's September now – Merlin knows how long he'd been doing it! I'm going to _kill _him!"

"Granger," Draco said, swiftly stepping in front of her to stop her from leaving the room. "That's the hard part, now we have to fight this trial with a cool head or we might not see Weasley get the punishment he deserves.."

"_Get out of my way, Malfoy,_" Hermione snarled, her face blotchy and angry. "I'm going to –"

"Granger, I know. I know it hurts," Draco said, stepping forward and enveloping her in a tight hug. She struggled against him, kicking and punching every inch that she could and Draco simply stood there, not releasing her from his grasp. "I know how much it hurts."

"M-m-malfoy. I _t-t-trusted_ him," Hermione said, her tears making her voice rather high pitched.

"He's your husband. The father of your child. It's natural that you do so. It's not your fault he's a nutter."

It might have been minutes or hours – Hermione didn't know. But she stood there, allowing her sobs to escape her and wreck her small frame. Draco stood in front of her, arms around her, lightly patting her back. She let her guilt and grief wash over her, crying for Rosie – how she was unable to protect her daughter from such viciousness. She let herself cry a little - however ashamed she was of this – for Ron; because there was no way in hell they were going to stay married. She cried harder when she thought about how of all people in the world, it was Draco Malfoy that was comforting her when she needed solace the most.

It was unreal, and yet, it felt right.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm working on in the arms of love - i just have abit of a block, which is why im focusing on this story. anyway, leave a review and let me know what you think of this chapter. hope you enjoy it!**

**nothing belongs to me. anything recognizable from the harry potter universe belongs to j.k rowling. I'm writing for fun. no profits.**

* * *

"Please state you name, and wand record."

"Hermione Jean Granger, 10 and ¾ -"

"No, no," Draco said, holding up a hand. "Don't sound too eager. They feed off of it."

"_What_?" Hermione said, frowning. "Who does that?" She crossed over the kitchen counter to pick up a fussing Rose who was in her sitting chair.

Tonight was another night they were spending in the kitchen of the Granger's house rehearsing for the upcoming trail. Not entirely to her surprise, the entire Wizengamot and Prophet were scheduled to be in court to witness her horrible case unfold.

It was because of this that Draco insisted that they rehearsed and re-rehearsed the story she was going to tell in court trying to angle the story in a more believable light. When Draco told her this, - using the _exact_ word 'believable' – Hermione blew her top.

"What's there not to sodding believe, Draco! You have her memories – they can't say you falsified it!" she had shouted a few nights ago.

"You don't understand," Draco said, wearily. "They'd do anything to make sure you don't win. How do you think it will look? Ex-war criminal defending ex-war hero? They love this. They 'd probably frame it such that I sabotaged your case so you _wouldn't_ win anyway. Give them a better story to write in the Prophet…"

"They wouldn't," Hermione said, horrified.

"They have," Draco said, sighing. "A few times but for really minute cases. Thank Merlin it wasn't anything as big as this." He paused for a few seconds, studying her face. "Which is why I make sure I leave no stone unturned, you know? Try all they might, they just can't possibly find a flaw with the case I'm presenting. Learnt that the hard way."

"They don't have the minister sit in as the judge now," Draco explained. "They have a proper judge and the Wizengamot acts as a jury – trying to emulate the Muggle courts, but it's not entirely perfected."

Back in the kitchen, Hermione now balanced Rosie on her hip – alternating between shushing her and trying to mash the boiled sweet potatoes that were in the bowl.

"Here," Draco said, standing up and holding his hands out. "Give me Rosie, and finish up dinner. You look like a circus."

"Thanks," Hermione said dryly, blowing a few loose curls from her face. It was so natural, Draco watching Rosie that Hermione didn't think twice before passing her over. Once, it might have bothered her, but now as she dished out some pasta and sauce on a plate, she thought about how easily trust came for her and Draco.

The kitchen was silent for a few minutes and Hermione quickly assembled dinner. There were so many things running through her mind, that she'd be a little surprised when she heard Rose laugh or Draco's low, soothing voice talking to her. It was as though she was in her own world.

Finally, she slipped into the chair opposite Draco, with Rosie between them. Levitating their dinner over, she felt the exhaustion settling in.

Draco smiled at his plate appreciatively and said, "Looks wonderful, Granger. I must say- I was rather sad your mother was out tonight."

Hermione's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she swatted him with a dishtowel nearby. "_Excuse_ _me_, I'm good at everything. Work, school, cooking, bed…"

"I'm sure your husband must be thrilled then."

It was as though someone had plunged a knife into her gut. Hermione felt herself try to smile and recover but it was too late – Draco caught her hurt expression before it was completely gone.

"Hey," he said now, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that Hermione."

"I know," Hermione said, her voice think. "It's not you. That was a perfectly reasonable comeback."

"No," Draco said flatly, "it was stupid of me, Granger. You have the right to be upset, but I'm sorry I caused it."

Hermione took a few deep calming breaths and felt Draco's eyes still trained on her. "I don't miss him or anything," she clarified. "I just – it's just painful to realize I failed at my marriage, you know?"

"You didn't fail, Granger," Draco said now, almost irately. He put back the piece of garlic bread that he was almost tearing. "Your husband mucked up – _he_ failed at marriage not _you_."

Hermione sat where she was fiddling with her fork. Draco hadn't touched his plate since and she knew he was waiting for a response from her. As usual, when she lifted her head to finally lock eyes with the cool silvers staring from across, they held no pity. Instead, they looked calm - but sorry.

"Okay," she managed.

"Okay," Draco said nodding. "Now that we've established that it wasn't you, but your ass of an ex-husband, shall we eat? Rosie seems to be the only one filling her stomach."

Hermione laughed weakly. "Let's eat," she said, picking up her fork and twirling her pasta.

They sat together, long after dinner, and long after Rosie fell asleep and Draco took her upstairs. Norah and David came home to find them still brooding over the sack of papers and quietly headed upstairs, not wanting to disturb.

Hermione wasn't afraid of being questioned, she was more afraid of the fact that the court could deny her custody to Rosie. That alone, spurred her to try repeatedly to tell her story over and over again – with the _right _angle.

* * *

The sun was streaming in, bright and slightly biting when Hermione felt herself being prodded awake. Her best friend stood above her, his green eyes questioning.

"Oh my god!" Hermione half exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "The trial – we were supposed to do a final run through! Draco! DRACO! Wake up!" She poked at Draco none too gently, causing him to jerk awake in a similar manner.

"'Mione, calm down," Harry said, alarmed. Reaching over, he plucked a stray piece of memo that was glued to her face. "You're awake early enough for breakfast. Your Mum is seeing to Rosie upstairs. Get showered and changed – you're not late."

"Fuck," Draco muttered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "How late did we stay up?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, wrapping an elastic band around her hair as she started to gather the mess of papers in front of her. "One minute we were going through the explanations for Exhibit A and the next I saw Harry…"

"You look terrible," Harry said now, smirking at Draco.

"Very insightful, Potter," Draco said rolling his eyes.

"Of course. I studied Divinition afterall…"

"Harry!"

"_Relax_ Hermione. I was just trying to ease the tension."

"Don't you _dare_ ask me to _relax_ Harry James Potter!"

Harry stood in front of Hermione now, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione," he said, his eyes serious. "Breathe." He waited until she did before he continued. "Draco has prepared you excellent for today. You will be fine. Say it. _I will be fine_."

"Harry…"

"Say it 'Mione."

"I will be fine," Hermione repeated, rolling her eyes although a small smile was tugging at her lips. Harry always knew how to cheer her up. He was kind that way.

"Good," Harry said, squeezing her shoulders before dropping his hand. "Now you just have to believe it."

"I'm going to pop home for awhile," Draco said, waving his wand so that all the parchments and files sored neatly into an impossibly slim file. "I'll see you at the courthouse, Granger. Okay?"

"Can't – can't you stay?" Hermione asked, knowing how pleading she must have sounded. "For breakfast at least?"

"Breakfast," Draco repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"Alright fine," Hermione huffed. "It will make me feel better."

"I wish I could," Draco said. "But I need to prepare myself – take a good Pepper- up Potion that sort of thing. But I'll be with you in court, so don't worry, ok?"

"Okay," Hermione said, feeling a small part of her wither from within. She was going to be wrecked with nerves.

"Hey," Harry said, clasping her hand soothingly. "I'm here. And Ginny's coming too. We've got your back."

Hermione nodded, feeling grateful that her friends were being supportive. At the same time – it just wasn't the same. Draco's steady eyes simply had that effect on her – that nothing could go wrong.

Once Draco had left, Hermione had the immediate urge to send an owl out, asking him some silly question or listing out the final details of their plans, but Harry must have sensed this because he ushered her upstairs to get ready.

She stepped out of the shower, shortly after Harry's grumblings and found herself face to face with Ginny, who said nothing, but had a blazing look on her face. Hermione knew this was Ginny's way of being supportive. She helped her pick out the clothes, all the while keeping an eye on Rosie who was in her baby cot.

"How do I look?" Hermione asked, turning around in the foyer. "I thought this was a sensible choice…"

"It is," Ginny said, smiling a little, some worry disappearing from her pale face. "The judges will dig the twin set. It screams affectionate mother."

"I don't see why you have to dress as though you were trying to fool someone," David said haughtily. "You _are_ a loving mother. It wasn't you who hit this poor girl."

"I know, Daddy," Hermione replied sadly, reaching over to place a quick kiss on her father's cheek. "But Draco said these judges were really into appearances. So I've got to make good on all ends."

David harrumphed, but he didn't say anymore. Norah was in absolute tears when they were leaving, and Hermione couldn't stop hugging Rosie close to her – as though it was the last time she was going to see her daughter. Once again, it was Harry who carefully pried Rosie from her grip with the promise that under no circumstance would he allow the court to take Rosie away from her.

* * *

Right now, however, Hermione wished she had fought Harry harder and hugged her mother longer. Flanked by both Harry and Ginny outside the court chambers still did nothing to quell the eerie feeling Hermione felt. It made her stomach extra queasy too when they had to pass the Dementors that were stationed along the dungeons.

She was looking around frantically, for the one person she wanted to see the most and she could almost have expelled a really loud sigh of relief when she saw his sharp profile walking swiftly towards them. Flashing them a tight smile, Draco brief grasped her hand and squeezed it before dropping it.

It was such a simple move, and Hermione was sure that it did not go unnoticed by either Harry or Ginny, but she didn't care. She felt instantly better.

Walking over to the bench, Hermione smoothed down her skirt before sitting in the chair that had a small name plaque magically engraved on it.

She was barely seated when she caught a flash of bright red – so much alike her daughter's hair and felt her stomach drop. Before she could fully react, the judge sitting on the high bench before her cleared his throat. His face was in half in the shadows casted by the huge chambers around them.

"All present then? Very well. We shall begin."

Distracted by the judge's booming voice, Hermione almost missed the quiet _'Hem Hem'_ that came from the right. Not daring to believe her ears, she watched transfixed, as the squat woman in bowler hat began reading out Ron's particulars.

Draco was speaking now, but she wasn't paying so much attention. She was willing herself to look away from Ron. Had he been so low as to employ _Umbridge_ to fight his case? Wasn't he on their side – where they all hated her once before?

"Miss Granger, if I have to call out to you one more time, I'm dismissing this case."

Hermione felt Draco nudge and she looked back to where the judge was sitting.

"I'm sorry –"

"Name and wand record, Miss Granger."

"Hermione Jean Granger, my wand is made of 10 ¾ vine wood, with dragon heartstring," Hermione said. This part was easy. She'd rehearsed it a million times.

"It is of my belief that you are accusing Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley of –" he shuffled the papers before him – "child abuse and neglect?"

"This is correct," Hermione answered, her voice steady.

"And how do you plead, Mr Weasley?"

"Not guilty," Umbridge replied, almost too cheerfully, "on the grounds of temporary mental damages dues to war."

Hermione felt her jaw loosen and drop a couple more inches. She turned to Draco who seemed to look as cold and unapproachable as when he first entered the courtroom. The room was buzzing with whispers and a few flashbulbs popped away merrily.

"Hmm," the judge said, now finally coming from behind the shadows. He was a wrinkly old wizard, his pointy hat slightly lopsided. "I have reviewed the evidence presented by Mr. Malfoy, and while a child's memory is simple to tamper with, I do not think it can be altered so seamlessly to produce what is false."

The court remained silent as Draco stepped out of his seat, his robes swishing around him. "The evidence was not tampered with, I assure you that. Ms. Grnger was at work when she found her husband torturing the poor child, and she immediately sought refuge in the home of her parents. Feel free to examine her memory right now too."

"I haven't got all day to pick people's minds, Mr. Malfoy," the judge said sharply, looking down at them.

"Understandable, Your Honour," Draco said now. "Which is why Miss Granger here is asking for full custody of her daughter and Mr. Weasley to be punished according to the Wizarding Laws."

"_Hem, hem."_ The judge turned to Umbridge now, and she smiled sweetly before moving from her seat. "Full custody seems a little much. Mr. Weasley here is suffering from post-war damages to his mental physique. He might not have been of sound mind when he _accidentally_ hurt his daughter. Giving full custody to Miss Granger seems a little harsh to my client, Your Honour."

"There has been no evidence presented to prove that Mr. Weasley was suffering from trauma due to war –"

"I think," Umbridge interrupted in her girly voice. "that signs of distress, anger, frustration, depression and loneliness that Mr. Weasley has confirmed – "

"These are merely simple emotions that can be felt by anyone! These _feelings_ you speak of are too vague to diagnose Mr. Weasley as a person who suffers from war trauma!"

"But it does not mean we can cancel trauma off the list altogether," Umbridge said smiling broadly.

It was a trap, Hermione thought, seething. She's planted the common feelings to back Draco into a corner to argue with her. The judge was listening intently, his hands joined at his fingertips.

"This is a _war-hero_ we are talking about, Your Honour," Umbridge continued. "He would not be so heartless as to attack his child? The man who saved the wizarding population alongside Harry Potter himself?"

Draco turned around furiously to face Umbridge, who was still smiling that sick smile of hers. "If Mr. Weasley was suffering from war trauma,it would have shown years earlier when the war ended, not simply out of the blue when he felt like hitting his child. Besides, there is no evidence to state that post-war trauma causes a violent streak in people."

"But there is no evidence to show that there is no relation between post-war trauma and violence either."

"Miss Granger," the judge said now, holding up his hand in the direction of Draco and Umbridge. "Did you notice any signs that Madam Umbridge described in Mr. Weasley prior to the abuse?"

"I did," Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly. "But my husband was always slightly jealous –"

"I don't think that's answering the question, Your Honour."

"Let her speak, Madam Umbridge."

Hermione glared at Umbridge before continuing. "He was always jealous that I was back on my feet – back to work, and he was always moody and grumpy when I came home. But I was not worried because my husband is known to have his moods and temper – even before the war."

"Do you have any witness or evidence to back that up?"

"She does, sir." Hermione whipped her head to see Harry, Ginny, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley standing up, all of them sharing the same angered look she supposed was etched upon her face as well. "We are witnesses. These are Ron's family, and I am his brother-in-law."

The judge sighed before turning back to Ron. "Anything to say for yourself, Mr. Weasley?"

"I – Being alone made me feel depressed – when Hermione went back to work, that is," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "I don't really remember what I was doing when I did that to my daughter." He gulped. "But I know I was wrong, Your Honour. Which is why…I'm here today," he finished lamely.

"Bollocks!" Hermione screamed, finally losing it. She could see Draco shooting her looks of warning but she ignored it. "You hurt our Rosie, Ronald! Stop hiding behind excuses and face it like a man!"

"Recess!" The judge boomed, immediately quelling the growing noise in the courthouse. He waved his wand in the air and caused a few bright red sparks to erupt with a bang. "We will reconvene in twenty minutes when the jury has made their decision, am I clear?"

Hermione was shaking so badly it took Harry and Draco to hold her back from pummeling Ron into pulp. She wasn't one for violence, but the way he _lied_ so blatantly in there was making her tremble with fury.

"Let- go- of- me!" she panted angrily as Draco and Harry struggled to make her sit in the bench outside the dungeon.

"Granger," Draco said now, his face level with hers. "I told you it was going to be difficult, I told you they would twist it –"

"He hired _Umbridge_!" Hermione said shrilly. She turned to Harry. "We hated her guts, Harry! We resisted her!" Draco looked around guilty and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh quit feeling sorry for yourself! We all knew you had a twisted father and you'd yet to grow your own brain when you were fifteen!"

The moment those words slipped out of her mouth, Hermione felt the colour drain from her face. She watched as Draco flexed his jaw muscles, as though trying to keep his cool. "Draco – I'm sorry, I was venting – I didn't mean it…"

"You're right, I was an asshole when I was fifteen," Draco said shortly. "But this trial isn't about me. Or how much you hated Umbridge back at school. So let's just focus on making it work out for the best."

Harry looked between the two, sighing as he handed Hermione a bottled water. Hermione could sense how uncomfortable he felt. _Do something_, she pleaded with her eyes.

"Malfoy," Harry said, breaking the awkward silence. "We know you're different. She's just upset. We've all had our bad days."

"Yeah, I know," Draco said, not looking at Hermione, but Harry. "But it would be nice if people stopped throwing my past into my face like that."

Before Hermione could reply, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had caught up with them with Ginny trailing slightly behind. She had a triumphant look about her face and Hermione couldn't figure out why.

They began to offer her consoling words, but Hermione simply nodded and tuned out. Draco studious continued to avoid her glance, and Hermione thought that those twenty minutes were the longest minutes of her life.

When they were finally called back to the court chamber, Hermione felt her stomach churning uneasily again. She slipped into her chair without comment, but she noticed a nasty bruise on Ron's face.

"Has the Wizengamot reached a verdict?" the judge called, looking out at the crowd behind him.

The Chief Warlock stood up, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. Hermione felt her heart beat in her throat. "We find Mr. Ronald Weasley guilty of child abuse."

There was a general murmur of agreement in the court chamber and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "However, it is possible that post-war trauma might have brought on the abuse in the first place."

_NO! No, no, no, no, _Hermione silently pleaded.

"Therefore, we propose that Mr. Weasley be sentenced to three months of Wizarding Community Service and a fine of a hundred thousand Galleons."

The judge fired sparks from his wand once more, making sealing the verdict delivered by the Wizengamot.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Her legs were numb and she couldn't move. So much for justice. So much for emulating a Muggle court. They were making money off this case. How could they be so blind? A _child_ was hurt.

Beside her, Draco slipped a hand over hers, rubbing his thumb back and forth over her fingers, and though trying to ease her pain. _It's okay_, she wanted to tell him. I don't feel anything anymore.

She felt numb as she watched Ron leave with a gloating Umbridge who went up to the Wizengamot, to bid each of them goodbye. Her tears blurred her vision and she stood up – walking out of the court chamber without another word, ignoring the calls of Harry and the Weasleys.

If this was justice then maybe she didn't belong the world she fought so hard to save in the first place.


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! Another one is up~ Leave your reviews please, let me know how you liked it :) happy weekend everyone :)**

**nothing belongs to me. writing for entertainment purposes only. anything and everything recognizable from the harry potter universe belongs to j.k rowling.**

* * *

"Granger, slow down."

Hermione could hear hurried footsteps behind her. Draco was following her. Why would he just bugger off?

"Go away," she said, not caring how rude she sounded.

"I will, in a moment, if you would just let me talk to you!"

Hermione whirled around so fast she almost collided with Draco's chest. "What _else_ could you possibly tell me?" she burst out savagely. "Too bad, _poor_ Rose? I should have married better? The judges were biased? Because I already know all of that, Malfoy, and unless you can tell me something new I really don't have the patience to stand around and listen –"

Draco's jaw was set in a firm line, and Hermione could see the greys in his eyes becoming darker as she spoke.

"I told you they would be biased," Draco said quietly.

"Great!" Hermione said, laughing maniacally. "Now you're going with 'I told you so'. _Typical._"

"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it!" Draco said, his voice sharp.

Hermione bit her lip hard and turned her head to stare at the wall. She could feel her tears forming but she didn't want to cry again.

She expected Draco to continue – maybe tell her what a difficult bitch she was being right this moment. He took a tentative step towards her and Hermione brought her arms up around her chest, crossing them.

That might have been sign enough for anyone to have walked away or offered another weak _I'm sorry_. But it didn't work for Draco Malfoy. No, he stepped closer and he wrapped his arms around her.

Hermione stood rigidly. This was so reminiscent of the day back at his office she felt shame spreading through out her body. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with it. But at the same time _everything_ about it was wrong.

"It's going to be ok," Draco said, smoothing his hand over her hair.

Hermione let a small sob escape, her face twisting. "I just wanted it to be fair for Rose…"

"Me too, Granger," Draco said, exhaling.

Hermione felt his warm breath on the top of her forehead and she turned her face upwards. He looked so pained by the trail. Almost as pained as she felt. Her heart ached. She closed her eyes and let her tears flow freely. Tiptoeing slightly, Hermione brought her face closer to Draco's.

"Hermione?"

And just like that, the spell was broken. Hermione jumped back, but Draco took his time, lowering his arms, squinting against whoever who wa at the end of the dark dungeon.

"Hermione?" the voice repeated, sounding unsure.

"I'll join you guys in a minute, Harry," Hermione said, her voice shaking.

"We'll wait out front for you, ok?" Harry said. His glasses were glinting from the dimmed torches.

"Ok," Hermione said, her face heating up from what happened moments earlier.

As soon as Harry was out of sight, Draco turned to Hermione, his mouth forming shapes but not words.

"Granger," he began, extending his hand towards her. Hermione stepped back, and his arm hung uselessly in the air. He let it fall after a few seconds.

"We should get back," Hermione said quietly, cutting him off. She was a good five feet away from him now. But that didn't stop her from breathing in his scent. Fresh and sharp. Just like him. She avoided his imploring gaze.

"Okay," Draco finally said, stuffing his hands back into his robes. He turned in front and walked away from her.

Hermione wondered fleetingly for a second why she was feeling so awful as she followed him out. He was helping her out with the trial. He was called in as a favour to Harry. They were worlds apart. Right?

* * *

They were milled around the kitchen counter. Norah was clutching David's arm so fiercely Hermione was sure her father's arm was going to be scarred.

Mrs. Weasley was puttering around behind her, sniffling as she brewed a strong pot of tea. For the first time in a very long while, Hermione noticed that her mother wasn't saying anything about someone else making her kitchen like their own.

"It – it didn't go down well," Hermione said, looking around for her daughter. "Where's Rose?"

"Oh," Norah gasped, cringing as she clasped her free hand to her mouth.

"Mum, please don't cry…" Hermione pleaded.

Harry was beside her, squeezing her hand as she tried to control her breathing. Ginny was no better, pulling mugs out from the cupboard and slamming them down on the counter vehemently as though it would cause Ron more hurt.

"What did they say, Hermione?" David asked, pale as a sheet as he put his arm around Norah's shaking frame. "Is he barred from visits? Don't keep us waiting please."

Hermione forced herself to tell her parents exactly what happened in court. Each time she described Umbridge's actions, she could feel her gut plummeting. When she was done, she heard her father curse loudly. David Granger was never one to curse.

"It's going to be ok," Harry said, echoing Draco's words. Hermione felt her stomach churning even more and she quickly pushed Draco out of her mind.

He had left with the briefest of nods, not meeting her gaze. She knew she deserved it for being so cold.

"The bottom line is – he still has access to Rose," Harry said, his voice now shaking with anger. "But I'm filing for a re-trial. Draco's working on it as we speak."

"Is that where he went?" Mr. Weasley asked tiredly, from beside his wife.

Harry nodded in confirmation. "He's calling in a few more people who have more influence with the Wizengamot. Trying to get a fair Judge."

"Hermione," Molly said, turning a tear-streaked face to her. "I _never_ raised him to be –"

"Molly, of course you didn't," Hermione said fiercely. "You practically raised me too all those summers at the Burrow."

Hermione walked the remaining steps, covering the distance between herself and her mother-in-law. Hugging Molly, she hoped Molly understood how much she loved the Weasleys.

Molly gripped her back just as hard as she sobbed into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, dear," she said. "You mean so much to us, Hermione. You're like a daughter to us. I'm so sorry…"

"Molly, come on," Arthur said, gently, trying to pull her away from Hermione.

This proved to be too much for everyone in the kitchen because Norah turned to David as her chest silently heaved. Ginny had that blazing look on her face as he piled her red locks into a high ponytail.

"Mum," a small voice said from the door.

Hermione felt Molly press a kiss to her forehead. Hastily wiping up her tears she planted a smile on her face before turning to pick her daughter up.

"Hi, bug," Hermione said, balancing her on her hip. "Mummy's missed you."

"Sad," Rosie said, turning her lips down to illustrate how everyone else was feeling.

"Yes, baby. Sad," Hermione said, imitating her pout. "But now I'm happy, see?" Hermione forced herself to smile and she held it there till Rosie giggled.

"Happy," Rosie said, smiling back at her.

"Excuse me," Molly said, walking out of the kitchen with Ginny. Norah looked at her husband before extracting herself to join Ginny and Molly.

Standing alone in the kitchen with the men, Hermione felt herself breathing in copious amounts of Rosie's scent to calm down.

"Dwaco?" Rose suddenly asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Draco's gone home," Harry answered, smiling fondly at her. "But Uncle Harry's here. Shall we play a round of tickle monster?" he asked, wriggling his fingers and eyebrows at Rose.

"Monster!" Rose shrieked delightfully, squirming in her mother's arms. Hermione gently placed her down so she could scamper off in anticipation of Harry's legendary tickling skills.

Harry turned to Hermione and placed a soft kiss on her cheek before leaving to chase after Rose. "We're here for you, 'Mione," he said, his face serious for a moment longer before it turned comical for her daughter's entertainment.

Arthur smiled mildly watching his son-in-law leave the kitchen. He removed a small handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his balding patch. "We meant what we said, Hermione. You're like our daughter. We don't approve of anything Ron did."

"I know, Arthur," Hermione said gratefully. "Thank you, really. You and Molly, going to court, you really didn't have to…"

Arthur frowned. "We wanted to, Hermione. It was the only thing to do. Believe me when I say that Molly and I are highly disappointed that Ron didn't get a more fair punishment. What he did was not – not – it's just not how we brought him up."

"It isn't your fault, Arthur," David said sharply form behind. "You're a damn good parent and it isn't your fault if your children commit mistakes."

Arthur nodded at David before smiling sadly at Hermione. He stood around a moment longer, stuffing his handkerchief into his pocket before leaving to find his wife.

Hermione turned to her father who was now busy arranging the mugs of tea on the tray.

"I did something horrible, Daddy," Hermione said, in a small voice.

"Hermione," David said, his voice gruff, "if you blame yourself for your marriage one more time –"

"No," Hermione said sadly. "It's not that. Draco's not here because of me."

David was quiet as he watched his daughter fiddling with her thumbs. He hated seeing this version of her. She was confident and headstrong – everything he believed a woman should be.

Even when she was down, it was rare to see her in tears. And yet now, she was crying almost everyday. It broke his heart to see his little girl so shattered.

"You can fix it," David said, reassuringly. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed a flaming intensity between Draco and his daughter. The world could see it, really.

All they had to do was look at the pair of them when they were engaged in a conversation. It was more than he could say for his former son-in-law.

"I don't know," Hermione said, now pulling out the jug of milk from the fridge and placing it on the tray beside the neatly arranged mugs.

"Darling," David said, gently placing his hand atop Hermione's. "Whatever it is, you can fix it. It's only too late if you don't _try_ to fix it." David reached forwards and hugged his only child closer to him, feeling her relax into his grip.

"I feel like a mess, Dad." Hermione's voice was muffled and tired. She sounded like she had just run a marathon, when really, the day was just beginning.

"You are, right now. But you'll be better soon, I promise."

"Why though? I mean, isn't it enough? The war and everything…why more sorrow?" Hermione asked bitterly. "I'm so tired of it. The war, Ron...I just want some time to_ breathe_."

"Oh honey," David said, "if I could explain to you why…I would've found the secret to life."

Hermione smiled weakly. It was the most she could manage for now.

"Think of it not as a punishment, love," David whispered, hugging his daughter fiercely. "It's to help you meet tomorrow."

Even though her father was trying to make her feel better, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if all this suffering and sorrow was even worth a tomorrow.

* * *

Hermione awoke some time later, her eyes feeling supremely tired from all that crying. She glanced at her wristwatch and saw that it was near midnight, which meant that she had been out for nearly eight hours.

She sat bolt upright in bed and looked over at the empty space next to her, panic settling in. Where was Rose?

Be calm, she told herself, as she quickly shuffled into her slippers and gown. Walking down the hall, she saw her parent's bedroom slightly ajar. Pushing it with her fingertips, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

Shocking red hair was spread out over the pillow. Rose slept with one hand thrown over her grandfather and one leg over her grandmother. Hermione wondered how her parents even managed to sleep in that uncomfortable position.

Silently pulling the door shut, Hermione walked down to the kitchen. Puttering around the kitchen did not help as much as she thought it would. She'd ended up brewing a full mug of tea that she hadn't really wanted.

Sighing, Hermione emptied the mug of tea down the sink and walked to the fireplace, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

Ten minutes later, she was spluttering as she tumbled out another fire grate. The ashes were hotter around her and she'd breathed in a whole load of it.

Still coughing, she straightened herself up to see two pairs of eyes staring curiously at her.

"Hi," she said weakly.

Narcissa Malfoy merely nodded, putting back down the glass of wine that almost made it to her lips.

"Well, well…look what we have here…" Blaise Zabini stared at her, his eyes glinting in the firelight.

"Is Draco around?" Hermione asked, feeling her nerves spiking copiously each minute.

"_Draco_ is still in his study," Blaise replied, smiling slightly. "If you'll excuse me Narcissa, I will go tell him he has a guest."

"Thank you, Blaise," Narcissa said, brushing her hand along his arm as he walked by.

Hermione stood anxiously on the carpet, soaking up the room's warmth. It was nicely decorated – almost had a modern feel to it. She's expected old antique furniture but she had to admit – this house had very few antiques.

It was mostly dark wood, but still, it didn't have a rustic old look to it. It looked fresh, and bold.

"Draco's been helping me out with my case," Hermione said, when she noticed Narcissa's unwavering gaze upon her.

"I'm well aware."

"I came here to speak to him for awhile," Hermione said, still wondering why she was bothering to address this woman with small talk. Then again, she _did_ just walk into her house unannounced.

"In the middle of the night?" Narcissa clarified.

"In the middle of the night," Hermione confirmed, her cheeks burning. She looked at Narcissa, surprised how firm she sounded. "I'm not afraid of you."

"I didn't think you were," Narcissa said airily. Hermione could have sworn the slightest smile grazed her features.

"Hey."

The voice at the door way caused Hermione and Narcissa to look away from each other. Hermione turned her head to see Draco still in his work clothes, leaning against the frame. He had a slightly irritated look carved upon his face.

"Hi," Hermione said. "I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment."

Draco nodded, backing out of the room once more without another word.

Hermione glanced at Narcissa once more before following her son out of the room.

They went back into his office. And Draco made sure he'd poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey before he turned to face her again.

"What was so urgent that you couldn't wait till morning?"

"You didn't come back to my place," Hermione said immediately. "And I wanted to know if – if you were angry –"

"No such thing," Draco cut coolly. "I met up with Zabini to discuss re-trial."

"You didn't say goodbye."

"I presumed that was what you wanted," Draco said, raising his eyebrows. "You seemed awfully cold when Harry walked in on me comforting you."

"I – it- That's not the point!" Hermione said, frustration seeping into her bones.

"Clearly. So exactly what is your point for coming here tonight?"

"Why don't you hate me?" Hermione asked, deciding to drop all pretense. "I thought you hated Muggleborns. Why are you helping me? Why are you in every corner when I crumble?"

Draco quietly sipped his Firewhiskey, not answering Hermione immediately. Hermione could feel her ears burning from her questions, but she didn't care. A part of her was burning to know the answers.

"I never hated you. I've told you this before. I was jealous of you – "

"I know," Hermione said impatiently, "But suddenly you're this different person and when I cut you off I feel _horrible_ lie I'd just said something foul to the Pope or something-"

"What's a Pope?"

"Never _you_ mind!"

"I didn't turn over a new leaf in a day, alright Granger? I see this as a repentance because I've been piling shit on you for all those years that I've known you, and you and Harry have shown me nothing but kindness and mercy. I couldn't very well refuse Harry when he asked me to help you out could I?" Draco said angrily.

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling tears prick her eyes. "You weren't helping me _just because_ then? You selfish –"

"Of course I'm selfish!" Draco said, slamming down his glass so hard bits of liquid sprayed everywhere. "Of _course_ I see this as an opportunity to clear off my debts to you and Harry – you've been saving me for years, Granger, don't you think I would want to return the favour sometime?"

"But you said you worked with children –"

"I _do._ I do – I think of all the time I was plotting to get fucking Death Eaters to murder half our school population and I chose this line of work to repay for sins for being a complete bastard. I'm good at what I do, so Harry asked me to help you out!"

"Would you please stop raising your voice at me!" Hermione said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Then would _you_ please stop asking me fucking inappropriate questions? If you came here to apologize for that fucked up almost-kiss, then fine! I accept it. Are you happy now?"

"I- that wasn't why I came here for," Hermione said stubbornly. Truth be told, she didn't know _why_ she did. She just wanted to fix _it_. Whatever _it_ was. She nervously bit her lip and contemplated Draco's haughty profile.

"Then enlighten me _please,_ Granger," Draco said exasperatedly. His cheeks were flushed from their small spat.

"I wanted to say thank you," Hermione said. "For everything you've done for me, for Rosie…" She waited for him to reply, but Draco merely nodded, looking away.

"And," she continued, "I heard about the re-trial…are you going to be helping me out?"

"The re-trial is a no-go," Draco said tiredly. "Zabini says the Wizengamot have it pretty set in their minds that a war-hero shouldn't be prosecuted negatively. Not good for the Wizarding community right now."

"And Zabini knows this how?" Hermione asked, feeling her ears grow hot. Bloody prejudiced court, she thought.

"His mother is pretty well connected. She's er- pretty familiar with most of the judges…and we were asking her to talk to each of them this afternoon. Their hands are tied."

"She's _slept_ with them? Merlin, they're almost 90! How –"

"Stop," Draco said, holing up his hand, a small smirk appearing on his face," I don't think we really want to go down that road, Granger."

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't think we do." They were both silent for a few seconds before Hermione spoke again. "You will see me though out the rest of it though, won't you? The divorce?"

With Ron, asking for his help would mean openly declaring that he was superior over her. That was why Hermione had ceased asking him for any sort of help. If it didn't match up to what she wanted, Ron would grumble that she was better off doing it on her own – which was what she became pretty accustomed to.

With Draco, however, she was learning that asking for his help was more as though she was confirming her own thoughts and actions. It was more of a partnership than she and Ron had ever managed to establish.

"If you want me to," Draco said, now looking into her eyes.

Hermione looked back at him, seeing less of the boy she knew. His eyes telling her almost everything he hadn't said to her. He looked less like the boy she knew.

"I want you to," Hermione said, sticking out her hand.

Draco rolled his eyes but grasped her hand in his anyways. It was warm, and it sent a series of shivers down Hermione's spine.

Hermione wanted his full story, the missing gaps in his life, but it was okay, they had so much time between them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi friends! thank you so much to all of you who've subscribed to this story. it's your reviews that keep me going! im really happy and I think i'm almost spilling with ideas for this story...just taking it slow and trying not to bombard you guys with too much in a single chapter. enjoy!**

**nothing belongs to me, anything from the harry potter universe belongs to j.k rowling. writing just for fun~**

* * *

Hermione pulled on an emerald green dress over Rosie's head, watching as the dress vividly contrasted her hair.

"No," Rosie announced, "No dress!"

"Rosie, don't be fussy today, please," Hermione said, feeling her patience stretch thin.

Rosie was being extremely difficult this morning. From being picky about breakfast, to the amount of bubbles in her shower, to how her hair was brushed – and now, about the clothes she was wearing. Hermione gritted her teeth and tried each time, to smile and slowly steer her daughter towards the outcome she'd wanted.

"No! Mummy, _no_!" Rosie protested, as Hermione left the dress on and began searching for little hairclips to pull back her daughter's hair.

"Rosie," Hermione said sternly now, and she could hear how annoyed she was. "Stop tugging at that dress."

Rosie's lower lip trembled precariously, and her bright blue eyes were starting to well up with tears - a move that she'd perfected around her parents. Hermione sighed and placed her hands on her hip, wondering how she should deal with this situation.

"Hey!" Distraction in the form of Ginny Weasley slipped into the room, with three-year old James by her side.

"Hello!" Hermione said cheerfully, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She brightened up a little more though, when James started running towards her, arms wide open.

"How's my favourite godson?" she cooed, picking up the little boy and planting kisses all over his face. "Did you miss your Aunt Hermione?"

James giggled as Hermione tickled him even more, while Ginny kneeled down and started braiding Rosie's hair.

"How are we this morning?" Ginny asked, her fingers moving deftly through Rosie's hair. Rosie was thankfully too distracted by the arrival of her cousin to kick up a fuss about her dress.

"Rosie's…awfully opinionated this morning," Hermione commented, rubbing her nose against James before setting him down to trot over to his cousin.

"Ah," Ginny said knowingly as she finished off the braid by securing it with a butterfly hairtie. "James is like that _every_ morning. It's like I wake up each morning negotiating everything from start to finish. Clothes, food, bath time…you name it, I've done it."

Hermione laughed, sitting down beside Ginny. "I can't imagine what that would be like," she admitted. "Rosie's just starting and I'm beyond exhausted."

"Yeah well, hopefully for her it's just a phase. It looks to be pretty permanent with James," Ginny replied, sighing. "I don't know _what_ I'll do when the second one comes along…" Ginny's eyes widened momentarily and she quickly clasped her hand onto her mouth. "Crap, I wasn't supposed to say anything…"

Hermione, however, was feeling something else. For once, she wasn't thinking about trials, divorce…or even a certain blonde bloke. After such a long time, she could genuinely feel happiness bubbling within her.

"Oh my goodness, Gin," she squealed, getting up on her knees and hugging Ginny tightly. "That's the _best_ time to let it slip! I'm so happy for you! How long were you holding the news off?"

Ginny bit her lip. "About three months," she admitted. "Are you mad? Harry just kept on saying it wasn't a good time to bombard you with news."

"Well, he's wrong," Hermione said firmly, as she let go of Ginny. "This is really good news. And I don't get it – this thing with Rosie has only been going on for a month – why didn't you tell me before?"

Ginny's normally bright eyes welled up with tears. "I didn't want to, you know? You were getting your groove back at work, and I didn't want you to miss the whole pregnancy and family thing – you looked so much more happier when you were back at work…and I just thought the timing wasn't good."

Hermione sighed sadly. "Did I look that miserable staying at home? I didn't mean to, really. I'm really happy with Rose."

"Oh honey, of course you were happy with Rose," Ginny said, placing a warm hand atop Hermione's. "But you were…like a shell you know, of your former self? And when you went back to work, you should have seen – or heard, rather – Harry _raving_ about you. He was so happy to have gotten his best friend back…"

Hermione snorted, glancing over at her daughter who was intently stacking blocks with her cousin. "Harry exaggerates sometimes," she said.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I think you mean Ron."

Hermione felt her stomach plummet and any traces of a smile disappearing form her face. "I loved him so much," she said thickly, forcing the tears away. Leaning onto Ginny's shoulders, she allowed Ginny's soothing voice to calm her down.

"I know," Ginny said sadly. "We all wanted you to love him. And when you did, he just didn't know how good he had it…he's got dung for brains sometimes."

"Most of the time."

"Definitely," Ginny agreed, laughing.

They both sat quietly like that until Hermione pushed herself away from Ginny, shaking her head, as though expelling any sort of negative emotion.

"So what brought you in today?" Hermione asked, now piling her hair into a bun.

"Just checking in, I guess," Ginny said, now brushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. "What's the latest? Are you getting a re-trial?"

Hermione made a face as she stood up and walked over to her closet. "No, I went to see Draco about a week back and he told me the Wizengamot is pretty firm on not dishing out a heavy sentence to Ron."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ginny said, stretching her neck as she watched Hermione fish around for clothes.

"Yeah, well…since when has the Ministry been fair about anything?" Hermione said bitterly. "Anyway, I'm might be seeing your brother later this afternoon. We're trying to agree on the terms…"

"So you're really divorcing him, huh?" Ginny said, eyeing her friend curiously. She wondered how Hermione was able to keep it all together when really, bits and pieces of her life were falling apart.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip before pulling out flowy white skirt and pairing it with a sleeveless olive green blouse. "I know it's really fast, and I should be giving him a chance or something, but Gin, I don't think I can love aman who hits his own child…I just – I can't."

Ginny nodded, and smiled at her friend. Truthfully, she was sad that she would be losing a sister-in-law. But as she looked at the broken woman in front of her, she knew that she and Hermione would be connected in more ways than Hermione's marriage to her brother. Hermione was the sister she never had.

Standing up and dusting her pants, Ginny helped Hermione pick out a few accessories that went well with her outfit. She didn't know what else to do but to just _be there_ for her friend right now.

* * *

Hermione looked around apprehensively. This wasn't the second time she was at Draco's house. In fact, this was the _fifth_ time she was here. She knew a normal person wouldn't usually keep track of how often they went to a place, but she did because nothing about this situation was normal.

Narcissa walked into the sitting room, settling in front of the arm chair that faced the fireplace. "I heard that your trial went unfairly," she said.

Out of habit more than anything, Hermione and Narcissa had made it a point to have a small conversation between them while they waited for Draco to appear. Sometimes, on good days, he'd appear within seconds and Hermione would be spared from talking with the elderly witch. On other days – days like today – he seemed to be nowhere in sight and Hermione would be forced to have a civil conversation with Narcissa.

"Yes," Hermione was saying now, as she slid out of her jacket. "It was a complete – _fiasco_, now that you mention it."

"How unfortunate," Narcissa said, waving her hand airily, her tone stating the exact opposite.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. It was one thing when Narcissa tried insulting her, but how _dare_ she poke fun at Rosie's situation? "Yes, it _is_ unfortunate. It only happened because of the stupid Ministry and their old bigoted ways which I am sure you're familiar with."

"Excuse me?" Narcissa said, her tone an inch sharper than before, "what are you trying to suggest? Because unless my ears deceive me, I hear you standing in _my_ house insulting _me_."

"Mother," Draco appeared in the doorway, dressed in simple jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. How he looked that good wearing something so simple Hermione would never know. "Can't you play nice for five seconds?"

Narcissa's eyes widened and she placed a hand over her chest. "I was being nice, Draco, dear, it's your _friend_ over here that suggested –"

"Mother, I heard you," Draco interrupted. "You sounded as though Father was coming back to us when you mentioned how unfortunate it was that Hermione's trial didn't go well…"

"Do not," Narcissa said standing up and dropping all pretense of carrying an injured tone, "make light of your Father. You do as you please, you interact with whomever you want, but _do not_ crack jokes about your Father!"

Hermione watched silently as Narcissa swept out of the sitting room without another word to the pair of them. She bit her lip to stop herself from replying something scathing. Personally, she knew she didn't need Draco to defend her, she was perfectly capable of standing up for herself, thank you very much.

"You didn't have to do that," Hermione said, almost immediately as Narciassa's long robes swept around the corner.

Draco frowned at her. This was another thing Hermione noticed about him – he always frowned or grimaced or _something_ before some remark left his mouth. He never shot off his mouth – instead taking the time to deliberate and deliver his words. "I didn't do anything for _you_. That was for her more than anything. She's awfully rude sometimes…"

"O – kay," Hermione said rolling her eyes. She still felt miffed by Narcissa's comment. Draco's pretense that he was doing it for his mother wasn't making her feel any more calm either.

"Come on…" Draco muttered, turning to walk out of the room. He didn't wait for her as he walked down to his office. Hermione sighed loudly as she followed him down the familiar hallway. This looked as though it was going to be a long afternoon.

Hermione saw Narcissa staring at her from the opposite room before the door clicked shut firmly. Deciding to ignore this, Hermione stepped into Draco's office without any more thoughts on Narcissa. She had to focus, anyway – they were going to deal with Ron.

"So – we're doing assets today?"

Draco cleared his throat smirking a little. "You have such a way with words, Granger…"

"Oh come on! No pun intended. I meant _my _assets!" Realizing it didn't sound any much better, Hermione blushed. "Our assets – Ron's and – oh sod it! We are going through property and wealth today aren't we?"

Instead of answering her, Draco merely gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

There was a stack of parchments, all hovering neatly above his desk. Each parchment was separated by an inch, just floating above the next.

"Umbridge sent me these today," Draco said, following Hermione's line of vision. "They're the terms for your divorce."

"I don't get it," Hermione said. "After centuries…how can the wizarding world _not_ have lawyers?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess even Wizards think that magic can fix everything…" He waved his wand and directed the first parchment towards himself as he walked over to his side of the desk. "So on this one, if you sign this, you agree to splitting the value of the house – fifty-fifty."

"Bastard," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.

"What?" Draco said, looking up from the parchment, his face darkening.

"Oh," Hermione said, clasping a hand to her mouth, "Not you. Ronald. The house was a present from Harry and Ginny. You know, Harry's way of giving us a good start into marriage and Ginny's way of saying thank you for keeping Harry alive during the war…"

"So you want more than fifty-fifty?" Draco clarified, picking up his quill.

"No, I just didn't think he'd want to sell it so quickly, you know?" Hermione replied, shaking her head. "It _is_ something that holds sentimental value after all…"

Draco scanned the remained of the parchment, his eyebrow still raised. "Well…it looks as though only you are feeling sentimental about most of your things. He's proposing to sell most of the things you share. Furniture…everything."

Hermione sighed audibly, rubbing her eyes. The day had barely begun and it was already seeping her energy. "Do you realize what this means?" she asked, picking up her wand to singe off a loose thread from her skirt.

"What?" Draco said, placing the parchment back on his desk. "You'll have more gold than you care to spend?"

"I have to start over," Hermione said. Draco said nothing. "I have to start _all_ over. I have to start a brand new _life_. Rose will have to start a new life." Saying it aloud made it seem as though it was really happening and not a badly concocted nightmare.

"From what I heard, you weren't really yourself when you married him," Draco said, offhandedly. "If you ask me, I think you're just going back to being you."

Hermione looked up into the pools of silver. Somehow, they didn't look as threatening as they did all those years ago when they were in school together. They simply looked…comforting. "You think that's good?"

"It's certainly better than the brooding Granger full of self-doubt sitting opposite me," Draco replied, not taking his eyes off the parchment.

He might have said it in the most casual manner, but Hermione knew there was a truth in that. She felt a little more energized as she signed the parchment before her.

"Fine," she said, smiling slightly. "If this means _closure_…"

Hermione watched Draco let out a small snort, as though her comment wasn't that funny, but he was giving her _some_ credit for it. How very condescending of him. And yet, she didn't find herself hating his guts completely.

Over the past few weeks, Hermione had come to realize there were certain quirks about Draco Malfoy that she couldn't help but like. For instance, he _understands_ those troubled children like the back of his hand. It was as though he spoke a different language- one that they were yearning to understand. She'd seen him at work, and she was amazed.

Then there was the part where he denied doing _anything _remarkable. It just baffled Hermione why he wasn't shouting off the top of his lungs how brilliant his work was. Or how much difference he was making to the world.

He also had a lot in common with her, which made talking to him much more bearable. They still argued, but it was more of a banter than a spiteful exchange. She knew he liked his pasta just right. That meant it couldn't be too soft, but it shouldn't be too hard – crunchy in the middle, according to him.

"Granger, are you paying attention?" Draco was saying now. Hermione could smell the faint traces of mint on his breath. Another thing she knew about him – he loved peppermint tea. Couldn't live without it apparently.

"I am," Hermione said, leaning forwards, wondering if he knew _exactly_ how much attention she was paying.

He smiled faintly. "Good, so you should sign here if you're ok with splitting the furniture in the drawing room."

Taking the quill from Draco, Hermione couldn't deny the little sparks that shot through her fingers when they brushed Draco's. If he felt any of this, he didn't show it, his brows were back to being furrowed as he scanned the next parchment before him.

Bending slightly over her parchment, she starting writing out her name, smiling. Today didn't seem so bad after all.

* * *

"Granger."

Hermione cringed as she shut the office door shut behind her. It was nearing ten p.m. and her body ached so badly from sitting in the chair for nearly ten hours straight. Turning slowly, she saw Narcissa standing in the doorway of her room.

"I'm just going to leave," she said. "Draco fell asleep, and it's so late already so I thought I'd go without waking him up."

Narcissa nodded, almost imperceptibly as though she really was listening. "Could you come in here for a moment?"

Hermione felt rather stupid –but prudent, nonetheless- when she turned behind her to see if Narcissa was addressing someone other than herself.

"Yes, _you_," Narcissa said, her face still remaining impassive.

Hermione raised her eyebrows but followed the elderly woman into her room. She had never been into any room besides Draco's office, and as she entered what she presumed was Narcissa's bedroom – it was a soothing cream coloured room.

"Here," Narcissa said, thrusting an old book into her arms. She turned to the window and waited for Hermione to inspect the object.

Hermione briefly wondered if it was cursed. As though reading her thoughts, Narcissa said aloud, "It isn't anything like the book that gamekeeper set you children back at Hogwarts if that's what you're worried about."

Grinning in spite of herself, Hermione flipped open the cover of the book. Her jaw dropped momentarily as she flipped through the pages. Taped to each page were photographs of Draco. Each picture was accompanied by a description.

The first page held a picture of Draco, his eyes just showing tiny slits of silver as he blinked. Below in a loopy cursive script, Narcissa had written:

_Draco Lucius Malfoy – you are my sole pride and joy. If I have done anything right in this world – it is bringing you into it. I hope you grow up into a fine man, one who is courageous and smart. You look so intelligent already. I'm exhausted but I can't wait to get to know you…._

_Love, _

_Mother_

Intrigued, Hermione flipped to the second page. This one documented Draco wearing a determined face in a wizarding photograph as he walked a short stretch into Narcissa's arms.

_Dearest Draco,_

_You walked today! I am so proud of you! The troubled times are over, and your birth has brought me nothing but peace. You will walk strong. You will walk tall. You will not let these shadows bring you down._

_Love you always_

_Mother_

Hermione looked up at Narcissa, who was sniffling as she dabbed her eyes and continued staring out at the window. Hermione flipped to a few more pages until she found a picture of Draco she recognized. This was probably in his second year, because he was standing and grinning broadly beside his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

_Draco,_

_I'm feeling so happy. I haven't seen your smile in a long time. Today was like a breath of fresh air. You're smiling again. I hope this smile lasts._

_Love_

_Mother_

"Mrs. Malfoy…" Hermione said, unsure what to say.

"Do not think of me as an uncaring parent," Narcissa said, still not turning away from the window. "I am really, really sorry that you lost your trial, Granger. I may not have the exact words to offer comfort, but do not, for a moment think of me as an uncaring parent."

"I- I never thought of you as uncaring," Hermione said softly, closing the book and walking towards Narcissa. "I thought you were poking fun at the trial, and I'm sorry that you had a tiff with Draco earlier...it wasn't my intention, believe me."

"I wasn't poking fun," Narcissa said, now turning away from the window. Her eyes were rimmed red. "It's hard enough without Lucius – you women wouldn't understand. You're capable with or without your husbands. The only person I have in this world right now is Draco – and to see him _look_ at me like that…"

"I'm sorry," Hermione repeated. "But you did sound like you were laughing at it," she continued. "Even Draco heard it in your tone."

"I- I apologize," Narcissa said. "I know how hard it is to see someone hurt your child. Merlin knows I had to witness it for nearly a decade…"

"Thank you," Hermione said, making sure she looked Narcissa in the eye so that she would know she meant it. "That means a lot to me."

Narcissa held out her hand so that Hermione could return the book to her. "It's a good thing that you're fighting for your daughter. Rose, is it?"

"Rose," Hermione said, nodding. "And I have to, I suppose. If I don't, nobody would."

"That's not true," Narcissa said, studying Hermione now. It wasn't so much as though Narcissa was screening and mentally picking her apart. It felt more as though she was curious about her. "That Weasley girl. And that Potter boy- they definitely have your back."

Hermione laughed, wondering when this weird conversation was going to end. "I suppose so. It's nice to know that I have Harry and Ginny with me, you know? I don't have siblings. And they're practically family to me."

"You have Draco now," Narcissa said, smiling slightly. "He wont say it, but he cares a great deal. About this trial, this case…you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and began slipping on her jacket. "I'm grateful for his help, though," she said. "I'd be lost without him right now. Everything's such a mess…"

"I actually know exactly how you feel," Narcissa said, retreating back to the window. "Make sure you close the door behind you, would you?"

And just like that, their conversation was over. Not that she minded, but Hermione supposed Narcissa could use a few more lessons on social skills. With her hand on the doorknob, Hermione hesitated and turned around, to look at Narcissa one final time.

"You know," she said, drawing attention back to herself, "Draco isn't _all_ you've got. Andromeda could use her sister. She lost her daughter and husband all in the same year. She's putting up a brave front but she isn't the same as before."

Narcissa merely stared at her as though she'd just suggested that Narcissa befriended Crookshanks for company. Deciding it was more prudent to leave, Hermione quickly exited and started back to the fireplace.

What a bizarre night, she thought. One her way back to the fireplace, she stopped in Draco's office for one final time. Stepping in, she did what she was resisting to do the when Draco fell asleep about a half hour ago. She brushed off a stray piece of hair that had fallen into his eyes as he sat tipped back on his chair, hands crossed, face peaceful.

Her fingers lingered above his left eyebrow before she gently traced it down the side of his face. Inhaling his intoxicating scent one last time, Hermione turned to leave his office for good this time. She didn't notice the slight movement behind her as Draco cracked his eye open to watch her leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay! hope you like this one. dont forget to click on review~~~****also, j.k rowling is queen of the harry potter universe!**

* * *

Tuesday morning found Hermione awake and extremely grumpy. Pulling things haphazardly from the pantry, she was a step away from slamming each item down on the counter.

Going to bed early probably wasn't the best idea, she thought. She spent the better half of the night tossing and turning and the remainder shutting her eyes and calling out to sleep that never came.

Just as she dozed off, she saw a pale white face by her bed and she almost screamed out in fright. It was Rosie returning to her room at the crack of dawn after David's snores woke her up. Now that Rosie was up, it was no use going back to sleep.

Sighing, Hermione pulled out the toast from the bread toaster and started covering it in strawberry jam. The kettle whistled and Hermione cursed under her breath has she abandoned Rosie' breakfast to pour hot waster into the tea mug.

"Mum! Mum! Mum,_ mum_!" Rosie babbled happily from her booster chair.

"_Yes_, Rosie," Hermione answered sharply, glancing at her daughter. She felt out of her body, as though her body was working on autopilot and she was elsewhere, observing her own actions.

"Dada?"

"Daddy's not here, love," Hermione answered more gently this time. "Daddy's away…but it's okay." Hermione moved closer to her daughter, feeling a twinge of sadness wash over her. "You have Mummy, and Grandma, and Grandpa and Uncle Harry…"

By this time, Rosie was already glancing around the kitchen, content in grabbing Hermione's attention for a minute. Hermione straightened up and shook her head, as though to clear off any unwanted feeling.

Her eyes caught the plain brown folder that sat on the edge of the kitchen counter. The little blue labels indicated the places where Ron had signed on the dotted line. Their marriage was officially over today. Their house was already up for sale. Hermione thought that the last two weeks of finalizing the divorce would mean that she would have cut off all emotional ties to her marriage.

How wrong she was. All it took was Rosie's mentioning of her father to set Hermione off in another foul mood.

"Bad time?"

Hermione whipped around so fast her neck cricked audibly. "You have got to stop doing that," she said, finding those calm silver eyes staring back at her.

"Why do you open your Floo connection if you don't want anyone to come over?" Draco asked, frowning.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest; suddenly feeling very exposed. She wished she had thought to wear robe down. But then again, she wasn't expecting a visitor at six in the morning.

"I- is everything ok? Why're you here, Draco?" Hermione asked instead, now handing her daughter a piece of toast. She picked up another mug that was right beside her and tapped her wand against its rim. It immediately started filling up with tea. She handed it to Draco who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

"I was on my way to the office," Draco replied, now sitting himself on the chair that was nearest to Rosie's booster chair. He flashed a half smile at Rosie, who immediately stuck her half eaten toast out at Draco. Draco leaned forwards and took the world's smallest bite, nodding at Rosie. "I thought I'd just check in, see if you were ok."

"Why?" Hermione bit, curling her fingers around her hot tea mug. "I'm fine…I don't need you to babysit me, you know."

Hermione regretted it the moment those words left her mouth. Draco had been nothing but nice to her for the past two weeks. He had been supportive and thoughtful of her feelings, walking her smoothly through her divorce.

They had spent an insane amount of time locked away in his office and today marked the end of that. Hermione supposed he was just checking in out of habit. Two weeks ago, she would have welcomed his presence, but today it just reminded her of how much she would actually _miss_ being around Draco.

Why was he visiting her when they had no more business together? Was he trying to make things hard for her?

"Right," Draco said, standing up and placing the tea mug down on the counter beside him.

"Right," Hermione said, biting her lip. She wasn't sure why she was being so mean, but it felt way better than the confusion she felt. "I told you I'm fine. Rosie too…we don't need you. I mean, I'm thankful for the past few weeks and all…but now, we're you know…okay."

Draco stared at his polished shoes for a moment, sliding his hands into his pocket. It was a full minute before he lifted his head to look at her again. "Is this what you want?"

Hermione knew that question carried more than a single meaning. Truthfully, she didn't know the answer she should have given. There, just opposite her – stood a man she felt that she could love – it was so easy to fall in love with him. And yet, she felt her brain telling – no, screaming- at her to run as far as possible and not look back.

"Yes," she replied, watching his face closely.

For once, it wasn't impassive, but it showed every sign of disappointment. They stood staring at each other for another second before Draco nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said, walking back to the fireplace. "See you around, Granger."

"See you," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. If he heard her, Draco didn't turn around.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot until Rosie shouted out at her. Her brain kept telling her that she had done the right thing. No good could come from getting involved with Draco Malfoy. And yet, it felt as though she had a big gaping hole in her chest and Draco Malfoy had ripped off her heart and took it with him when he stepped into the fireplace.

* * *

"Hermione, wake up."

Hermione swatted the hand that was tapping at her cheek.

"_Hermione_." The hand prodded again.

Hermione groaned, rolling onto her side. She wondered where her wand was – this person deserved a jinx. "Whozzat?" she asked sleepily.

"Hermione, wake up." The voice was exasperated now, sighing and huffing. Hermione recognized it as Ginny's.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realized she must have slept away the entire afternoon because it was already 4.p.m. Great; she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

"What's so important that you have to wake me up, Ginny?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Well," Ginny said, frowning slightly, "I have it on good authority that you've been up here _all_ day?"

"So?" Hermione asked, now frowning herself. "Isn't a person allowed to sleep? I barely slept yesterday, I was just catching up on a bit of sleep, honestly…"

Ginny's eyes narrowed, as though she didn't completely believe Hermione. "You've been crying."

"No," Hermione lied, her eyes shifting around the room.

"HA!" Ginny shouted, wagging a finger at her. "You have."

Hermione turned away form her friend, feeling irritated. It was so hard to just emote anymore. She had a dozen people on her back, watching her every move, trying to read into each meaning. It was driving her mad.

"Hey," Ginny said, softly, "I'm sorry, Hermione…I was just worried. Your mother said you practically barricaded yourself in this room ever since Draco left this morning…"

"She said that did she?" Hermione asked scathingly. "And I suppose suddenly _all_ of you are just waiting to advice me on what I should do next?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows so high that it might have disappeared beneath her hairline. "I don't need to take this nonsense from you," she said coolly. "I keep having the urge to throw up and I want nothing more than to lie in bed and read magazines but I came rushing over when Harry told me he heard from your mother that you were feeling low…"

Hermione looked guiltily at her friend. "I'm sorry, Gin," she said tiredly. "I really am, I don't mean to take it all out on you…"

"It's alright," Ginny said graciously, her demeanor still frosty.

"I just – I just feel so lousy right now," Hermione said, wondering if her friend understood her. "I said some things I shouldn't have, and it makes me feel like a terrible person."

"So go apologize," Ginny said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You just bit my head off, and you apologized. I mean, really Hermione, is it worth it to be so torn up over this person if you cant even say something when you're angry?"

"That's the thing," Hermione plunged on, "I wasn't angry. I- I think I said it because I was mostly confused."

"Hold on," Ginny said, raising her hand, "what was it that you said to Draco? It couldn't have – "

"Who said we were talking about Draco?"

"Hermione…"

Hermione pulled up her sheets over her head, sighing. "Where's my daughter?" she asked, hopeful for a change in the subject.

"With your mother," Ginny answered. "Now quit trying to throw me off topic. _What_ did you say?"

"I –" Hermione broke off, hesitating.

Looking at Ginny, she realized this was the one person she had been spilling her secrets to since she was thirteen. All those nights spent talking about Ron and Harry and how they would get noticed…her fear of failing...but _Draco_ was a whole different level. It was opening a can worms.

"I told him we didn't need him anymore," Hermione said in a small voice.

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened with shock. "Hermione," she said weakly. "I don't get it, were you trying to be – to be- _hateful_?"

"No I wasn't!" Hermione replied indignantly.

"Then _why_ in Merlin's name would you say something like that?" Ginny asked exasperatedly, throwing her hands into the air.

Hermione pushed herself angrily off the bed. She began pacing around the room, just to have an excuse to do something. "I don't know!" she replied angrily. "I'm not sure about what I want, and he comes right out and ask me in that damn voice if _this_ was what I wanted –"

"Wait, he _asked _you and you told him that?" Ginny asked, looking incredulous. "Talk about letting a person down easy…"

"Ginny! I don't know if I even want him –"

"Of course you bloody do!"

"I- what?" Hermione stopped pacing and turned to her friend, "And you know this how? Even _I_ –"

"Hermione, you look at him through your lashes," Ginny said. "You're relaxed around him. _Extremely_ relaxed for a person who's going through a divorce. On the days that you meet him, you come home happy, and on the days that you don't, you look as though someone ran over your dog…"

"But we've never done anything, Ginny," Hermione said,wringing her hands. "I mean, all those hours it was really about the divorce and making sure that Umbridge doesn't pass a term with a loophole…"

"Hermione," Ginny urged, "love happens at anytime –"

"It isn't _love_, Ginny!" Hermione hissed, her hands shaking as they tucked stray pieces of hair behind her ear.

"Look," Ginny said, now walking over to Hermione, "its _okay_ to fall for him, you know? In fact, I think he actually likes you back."

"He does not," Hermione argued, just for the sake of arguing.

"He does," Ginny said, "and you know it. "And I don't know what it is between you two – love, unresolved sexual tension –"

"Ginny!"

"-_ but_ I think you should just go with it instead of moping up here in your room."

"I'm a divorcee, with a kid in tow, Ginny," Hermione said sadly. "I don't know, isn't that too much baggage for a person? And the divorce was finalized _today_. If I went on and went out with him, what would your mother think of me?"

"For once, Hermione, just think of your happiness okay?" Ginny said, pulling her friend into a hug.

Hermione kept quiet while Ginny's arms went around her. Her mind was spinning fast. On one hand, she felt nervous and tingly – the way she first felt when Ron had noticed her as someone other than a friend. On the other hand, even the thought of pursuing Draco Malfoy made her feel as though she was cheating on Ron.

It was true that being around Draco made her forget her horrible past, and it did take her mind off Ron. And she did get that nervous feeling all the way to her toes...but wasn't it all a little too fast? She had kept her hands to herself ever since that day in his office. She had chided herself again and again for being so forthright with her actions...and yet that was the time that she felt happiest. Right now, knowing that she had sent Draco off made her feel as though she had lost a limb or something to that effect.

Perhaps Ginny was right. It was time to live for _her_ happiness instead of worrying about the world.

* * *

Hermione checked her wristwatch nervously. Ten to six. This was usually the time Draco had his dinner. They had spent each day for the past two weeks eating dinner at the Leaky Cauldron.

It was a sort of tradition with Draco, Hermione realized. He could have been anywhere in the world but he _always_ had dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. This was simply because Tom the bartender was kind enough to offer Draco and his family shelter when the Manor was temporarily seized by the Ministry. Another thing that Hermione had learnt about Draco.

At five to six, Hermione Heard an unmistakable Apparation pop. She scanned the door of the Leaky Cauldron and true enough; she caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair. Summoning all the Gryffindor courage, Hermione started walking purposefully towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Just tell him, and see what he thinks, she thought. She had talked it over with Ginny a hundred times; there was no way she could mess up tonight.

"Granger?"

Hermione stopped short in front of Draco. She had been so busy thinking about what to say to him that she hadn't realized how loud she was walking. She was very obviously a lousy stalker.

She allowed her eyes to linger on him a moment longer before a small cough interrupted her thoughts. What she saw next made her heart drop right through her stomach and onto the cracked pavement.

Standing beside Draco was a woman that was breathtakingly beautiful. Dark, raven hair that was hanging low to her waist and sharp aristocratic features that were studying her curiously – Hermione knew this woman. This was Astoria Greengrass, most sought after woman amongst the Purebloods.

"Toria, Hermione Granger," Draco said, looking between them. "Hermione, Astoria Greengrass."

Astoria extended a slim, gloved hand out to Hermione, who took it and squeezed it briefly before letting it drop. "Hello," she greeted in a falsely cheery voice.

"Hi," Astoria nodded, not saying anything more.

Hermione could feel her nerves unfurling. Of course this was a bloody stupid idea, tracking Draco Malfoy down just to _talk_. He was the most sought after bachelor in the wizarding committee – obviously he'd have a date. Hermione cursed herself silently for being so stupid. She was going to give Ginny a piece of her mind later.

"Toria, could you give Hermione and me a minute?" Draco asked, now leaning into peck Astoria on the cheek. "I'll catch in with you in a moment…"

Astoria nodded twice, once to show Draco that she heard him and once more in Hermione's direction. Hermione nodded back feebly and turned on her heel, waiting on the edge of the sidewalk for Draco.

He joined her after a few seconds, sticking his hands into his pocket, standing a few meters away from her. She could smell his cologne from where she was.

"So," Draco said, leaning back on his heels, "if you've come here to show me how _okay_ you are –"

"Draco, stop it…" Hermione could feel her face turning red.

"Then what was so important that you had to come out here to see me? I thought you didn't _need_ me? You wanted it that way, remember?"

"You're out on a date?" Hermione asked, avoiding his question.

"So what if I am?" Draco shot back, his grey eyes turning cold.

"Nothing," Hermione said, turning her head away from him and blinking back her tears rapidly. This was such a stupid idea. "I – I should go…"

She turned to leave, but she felt Draco's warm hand on her arm and she stopped. "Wait," he said, his voice losing a bit of it's edge. "Why did you come here tonight, Granger?"

"I- I don't know," Hermione said quietly. "I guess I want to be friends. I don't like how we left things."

"_Friends_?" Draco spat out incredulously. He let go of her arm and dragged his hand through his hair, messing it up. Turning around he opened his mouth as if to say something but he shut it back a few seconds later. "What's the deal here, Hermione?"

"What?" Hermione asked, her heart hammering wildly. Did he really feel the same way about her?

"First, you push me away, and I tell myself, _fine_ too soon. Remember that day in the courtroom? And then you cook me all these dinners, you want to spend all this _time with_ me, and I think, hey, I've got a fighting chance! You even touched me when I was sleeping –"

"Oh my god," Hermione gasped, clasping her hand to her mouth. She pointed a shaky finger in Draco's direction, incapable of words. "You_ knew?_ "

"You're not exactly Miss Stealth…" Draco answered, frowning. "And I tell myself, too soon, you're still married to that prick. So today when it's all over, I thought we might move forward with _this_- " Draco waved his hand back and forth between them, "- but you practically threw me out of your house and now you're back again…what do you want from me, Hermione?"

"I- I don't know," Hermione answered weakly. "I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't want to rush into things."

She could feel Draco's eyes burning a hole through her soul and she averted her eyes from his gaze. This wasn't going how she wanted it to go. They were supposed to share a meal and work things out – the way they usually did.

"Then make up your mind, "Draco said quietly. "Because- because playing hot and cold with me isn't the nicest thing to do, Granger. If you want me, I'm here. If you don't, then _stop_ coming back."

"So you don't want me here," Hermione said. "I don't know why I even –"

"I _didn't_ say I didn't want you!" Draco said, his voice rising slightly. "I said make up your fucking mind because all these mixed signals you're sending me is messing with my head, woman!"

"You're going out with Astoria!" Hermione shot back, tears glistening in her eyes. "I was feeling confused after ending a five year long marriage! Cut me some slack, would you? I thought things over and I came here to talk to you – make a pro-con list or something –"

Draco barked out maniacal laughter. "Right," he said, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm supposed to _know_ that 'I don't need you anymore' is code for what, making up a pro con list twelve hours later right?"

"I – you are so _infuriating_!" Hermione shouted, stamping her foot. "I don't know why I came here! Go back inside and enjoy your stupid date then!"

"You know what?" Draco asked in a mocking voice, "I think I _will_. At least with Astoria, I know that she _wants_ me, which is more than I can say for you."

"Don't," Hermione said coldly, "compare me with her."

Hermione turned her back on Draco, feeling her heart clench painfully. He looked so handsome in his royal blue suit. She wanted nothing more than to put her arms around him the way he had done for her so many times. But Draco had chosen his way. He had chosen Astoria and Hermione wasn't about to _beg_.


	7. Chapter 7

**COMPLETE RE-WRITE OF CHAPTER 7! I was down with a head flu, and to be honest, that was a shoddy piece of work guys :( I'm so sorry for putting you through that! Anyway, I thought I'd write out the original idea I had. I hope you like it, and again, a million apologies to those of you who prefer the other chapter. I just think this will take the story to where I want it to go to.**

**Anyways, dont forget to leave your comments!**

**Nothing belongs to me - it all belongs to J.K rowling. **

* * *

"Honestly, honey…a few more months wouldn't hurt," Norah tried, glancing at her husband for support. "If not for you," she continued, "then do it for Rosie. She's so little, she needs all the support she can get –"

"Mum," Hermione cut in firmly but gently, "I really think it's time I got back on my own feet. Staying here with you and Dad…it's been wonderful. But you know me. I like being independent Mum." Hermione looked between her parents as she said this, careful not to let too much emotion into her voice. Her parents would have been able to read her like an open book if she said anymore.

Norah sniffled, still unconvinced. "I _know_ honey. But it's been only a month or so. Let us take care of you," she practically begged. "You don't have to defeat some dark king, or go off to save the world. Let us watch you a change, dear…"

Hermione opened her mouth to reason with her mother again but David gave her tight smile before slipping his arm around his wife. "There, there Norah. Hermione's a big girl…let's try to be supportive of her decision now."

Hermione smiled gratefully at her father. She stood up and stepped around the boxes that were piled neatly by her feet and walked towards her parents who were standing not far off from her door. "I cant thank you enough," she said, leaning into their embrace. "You've both done so much for me…for _us_ and I just don't know what would have happened if you both didn't have my back."

"We'll always be here for you, Hermione," her father replied, his voice turning gruff. "You'll always be our little girl and Rosie will always be our favourite grandchild."

Laughing, Hermione quickly blinked back the tears that were prickling her eyes. "Daddy, you only have one grand child. She's your beloved, not favourite."

"Your father has a knack for saying silly things," Norah chided playfully as she hugged her daughter close. Pulling back a fraction, she studied the brown curls and light freckles sprinkled over her daughter's face. It was like staring into a mirror. "Now, you listen here, Hermione. Don't you dare let that horrid man back into your life. Do you understand? We always thought he was never good enough for you –"

"I know, Mum," Hermione quickly said, not eager to enter another round of Ron bashing. "My new apartment has all sorts of wards set up. It recognizes Ron's wand. He'll never be able to get any closer than two streets to us –"

"I still think that's a little too close for comfort," David chimed in, frowning. "Couldn't you get Harry to increase the distance?"

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head sadly. She spared a quick glance at her daughter who was content with colouring in hearts as she sat by the tiny desk that David had set up for her. "Harry pushed it to the maximum. I guess it is what it is, and I'll just have to be extra careful."

"You do that," Norah said nodding. She sighed and ran her hand up and down on Hermione's arm. "We just –" her voice caught, and she pulled her hand back, covering her mouth.

"Mum don't cry,' Hermione said, feeling tears of her own springing up to her face. "This is hard as it is…we'll be alright, I promise you."

"You're right," Norah said, swallowing as she took deep breaths. She hugged Hermione tightly once again, not noticing how David had moved over to Rosie to give the two women a little more alone time. "Stay alert, and don't hesitate to call us if you need anything – anything at all."

"I wont," Hermione promised, hugging her mother tightly. Finally letting go and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Hermione walked over to her father who had a goofy smile plastered to his face as he entertained Rosie. Pecking him on the cheek, Hermione scooped Rosie up in a swift motion. "Say bye to Grandad, Rosie," she instructed. Rosie complied good-naturedly, blowing her grandfather a kiss for good measure.

Turning to her mother, Hermione instructed Rosie to do the same, waiting as she blew her grandmother a kiss farewell. "So the boxes leave when I do…and I just have a few summer dresses in the closet that I plan on leaving here when we you know, camp out here in the summer…I hope that's not too much trouble?"

"Of course not," Norah said, waving a hand. "You leave as many things as you want behind."

"Thanks again, Mum, Dad," Hermione said, forcing herself not to cry. If she did she would be stuck here the whole day, waiting for her mother to stop while she started all over again.

Her parents nodded in unison, stepping closer to each other. As Hermione watched her mother sigh sadly and rest her head on her father's shoulder, she wished that she had someone like that in her life. It was a glaring fact that popped into her mind every once in awhile, scaring her, making her heart race. She would never have that. She had a husband who thought that a child was no different than a ball, to be tossed and kicked around.

She definitely needed to move out of this place. She needed her own space to come to terms with the fact that she was going to be alone for quite while.

* * *

"Surprise!"

"STUPEFY!" Hermione shouted so loud that she was sure the entire neighbourhood heard her scream. Ginny screamed and ducked as Harry casted a pretty strong Protego non-verbally.

Maintaining her death-grip on Rosie, Hermione could her herself breathing raggedly.

"Oh my god, 'Mione," Ginny said, weakly, as she pulled herself into a standing position with some assistance from George who was grinning despite his paled face. "We wanted to surprise you, not kill you."

"I'm so sorry, guys," Hermione replied, groaning, as Rosie started to bawl. "Oh it's okay, honey, Mummy got a nasty shock is all…it's okay…" Still soothing her daughter, Hermione glanced around apologetically at Harry, Ginny and George who looked at her with less enthusiasm.

"Guess we shouldn't have done that," Harry said after a while as George stepped forwards to placate his upset niece. "Sorry, Hermione. Ginny just thought it would be nice to surprise you, you know – get the house in order…one less thing for you to think about."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she finally took in the apartment. When she signed off on this apartment two weeks ago – it was barely furnished. Ginny had accompanied her on a few shopping trips, trying to help her decide which furniture she should buy once she got settled in, but she never imagined that Ginny was keeping track of it.

The walls were a light cream - that made the apartment looked airy and cozy at the same time. There was a beautiful red leather couch in front of the giant television that was mounted on the wall opposite. The drapes were a shade darker than the walls, with a tinge of gold. It looked beyond grand.

"Wow, Ginny," Hermione said softly. "This looks amazing! Did you pull this off this morning?"

"Yep," Ginny said, smugly. "I've been taking these two –" she jerked her head in the general direction of Harry and George, " - shopping with me. We've been stashing the items in Dad's garage. Of course, he went completely mental when he saw the telebushion."

"Television," Harry and Hermione automatically corrected and immediately sending an apologetic glance at Ginny.

"I don't think I've seen Hermione speechless," George commented, smirking. Rosie looked curiously at the hole by the side of his head. She contemplated putting her finger there but quickly withdrew it as George craned his neck away from her. "You've definitely accomplished something today, Gin."

"I _am _speechless," Hermione said, not bothering to deny it. "You guys, this is too much. You paid for the first house and now _this_. You have to save up for your children's future too. Let me reimburse you –"

"Hermione," Harry said, stepping forward and putting a hand on her shoulder. "You've had a rough couple of weeks – no _years_, and if this is going to help you get back on track, we don't see why we shouldn't help you out."

"But spending gold just like that –"

"We want to, Hermione," Ginny cut in, placing one hand protectively on her growing bump. She nuzzled noses with Rosie who was reaching out from George's arms to play with her long auburn locks. "You're family and we're helping you out because you need it. Heaven knows you've done more than your fair share to help Harry out when he needs it."

"Thank you," Hermione said, looking at Harry, Ginny and George in the eye. "So much."

George grinned again, walking forward to place a chaste kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Don't sound so surprised, Hermione. Ginny's right. You're family."

* * *

Two hours later found Hermione and Ginny in Hermione's new bedroom, ripping through boxes as they sorted out Hermione's clothes. Harry had gone to fetch James from the Burrow and George was passed out on the couch, Rosie snoring contently against his chest.

Ginny now sent a pile of clothes soaring into Hermione's closet as Hermione arranged the toiletries in the bathroom. Looking up, Hermione saw the clothes zooming into the cupboard. "Ginny, don't you think um – we should sort out the clothes first?"

Ginny snorted. "You and harry are _so_ alike sometimes it's scary. Come and have a look," she replied, still waving her wand at the remaining boxes.

Placing the bottle of mouthwash on the glass shelf above the sink, Hermione walked out into the bedroom. Two days ago, the bedroom was bare and as inviting as a horse barn. Today, it was carpeted with a kingsized bed and a baby cot by the window. Her bathroom was fully equipped with a bathtub and a vanity as well.

Peering into her closet, Hermione watched as her clothes folded themselves into neat squares, the socks rolling themselves up obediently as the dresses slid effortlessly into the hangers.

"Ah," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I should have known. One of your mother's?"

"Yeah," Ginny said grinning. "Neat, isn't it? I'll show you the one for laundry too. Separates your coloured from your whites and everything." Laughing at the slightly astonished look on Hermione's face, Ginny lowered her instructing wand. "You and Harry easily forget that you're magical. You keep doing things the Muggle way."

Sighing, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "I know, out of habit more than anything. But it's strangely comforting at times. I would want Rosie to know how to do things both ways you know. My Dad always said chores were an integral part to character building."

"Right," Ginny said, narrowing her eyes, not entirely convinced.

"It's true," Hermione insisted as she walked to the dresser opposite her bed. She waved her wand and summoned her make up and things alike, sorting them by frequency of use on the dark, polished wood before her. "I mean, look at Ron. He can't do laundry even if his life depended on it. And heaven forbid he washed a spoon after he was done eating…if it were up to him I'd be chained to the kitchen."

"I'm sorry you had such a trying marriage, Hermione," Ginny said quietly, still directing clothes into her closet. "You are the last person that deserves this, you know."

"I loved him, for what it's worth," Hermione said after a few brief seconds. "We just had such glaringly different personalities…and I'd be lying if I told you the eleven year old me is completely crushed that we didn't work out, Gin. I really believed he was it, you know?"

"I haven't got a clue, Hermione," Ginny said truthfully. "What you went through – it's so tough and emotionally trying that I wont even pretend to agree that I know exactly what you're feeling."

"Thanks Gin," Hermione said, stopping her organizing midway. "For everything, you know…"

Ginny shook her head, smiling, not even bothering to dignify Hermione's thanks with another 'Don't mention it'. When was she going to understand that she was the sister Ginny never had? She'd do anything for Hermione. Right after Harry, of course. All those years, huddled up in Gryffindor Tower, sharing their secrets, or at the Burrow, both silently worrying about Harry and Ron…in some cases, blood wasn't necessarily thicker than water, Ginny thought.

"As long as we're on the subject," Ginny said casually, watching Hermione out of the corner of her eye, "have you seen the Prophet today?"

Hermione flinched visibly. They weren't on the subject – not even _close_. Hermione had seen the Prophet this morning, which made her choke and spit out her coffee. Unless she was mistaken – and she was a hundred and one percent sure she wasn't – Ginny was talking about the giant blow up of the picture of Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass as they exited one of the most posh restaurants in wizarding Paris.

"I have," Hermione answered in a level voice. "And I don't care very much for it."

"Like hell you don't," Ginny retorted, frowning. "Hermione, this might not be my place to say it – "

"The _don't_."

" – but as your _friend_, I think you should know that it's pretty obvious that you went on a house hunting rampage the day after your spat with Draco at the Leaky Cauldron. I mean, you literally barged into our kitchen, telling the story, announcing you need a new house –"

"Because," Hermione said in a very loud voice, drowning out Ginny's voice, "I needed a plan for my life. I realized going back and forth with Draco Malfoy wasn't what I intended to do with the rest of my life."

"You were crushed," Ginny stated bluntly, not bothering to hide the facts. She glanced at the door, trying to listen for any noises incase their voices woke George and Rosie. "And this is how you dealt with it. But you were so much happier around him, Hermione. It was a fraction of the old you back, even Harry saw it –"

"The old me was naïve and quick to trust," Hermione snapped, slamming her hairbrush down on the dresser. Why did Ginny have to bring him up again? They had agreed they wouldn't talk about him. Was it so hard to honour their promise? "Look what the old me got me into – a failed marriage, a broken child, a divorce –"

"I'm talking about before you were married to my bastard of a brother!" Ginny said crossly. "You were happy, Hermione. On days that you met him, you didn't walk as though you had the weight of the world upon your shoulders. I'm just saying that maybe it's time you properly dealt with what you were feeling."

"I tried, didn't I?" Hermione said, not bothering to keep her voice down. "But he said I was playing hot and cold –"

"You _were_, Hermione…"

"I didn't want to rush into anything!" Hermione said, exasperatedly. "Ginny, I've told you this story a million times, aren't you ever going to believe that I wasn't _ready_ for a relationship?"

"I do believe you," Ginny replied fiercely. "I also know that burying your feelings and throwing yourself into work isn't a way to deal with this! I've watched you do that with Ron and look how nicely _that_ turned out."

"Ginny, look," Hermione said, throwing up her hand to make sure she wasn't interrupted. "I'm thankful for all you've done. Really. I truly am. But you don't get off trying to tell me how to deal with my feelings. It's up to me to work it out for myself!"

Ginny furiously wrenched open her mouth, an answer already formed for her, but the creaking of her door stopped her from retaliating Hermione. George looked in, still carrying a sleeping Rosie.

"Er – Hermione, you have a visitor," he said, looking at his sister who was almost red in the face while Hermione was no better with her hair escaping from her messy bun, irritation written all over her face. "And you should know that you were arguing very loudly."

Ginny rolled her eyes while Hermione walked curiously out of her bedroom, wondering who might have called upon her. Other than the Weasleys and her parents, she didn't think any one else knew where she lived.

Walking into the living room, she almost lost her balance as she caught a glimpse of the sharp side profile and the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Of course Draco Malfoy would come back right when she thought she had moved on.

* * *

"What in the hell is your problem?" Hermione whispered, walking back into her bedroom and shutting the door. "If you wanted to have a hear to heart talk about Draco Malfoy, I could have handled that! You didn't have to invite him over!"

"I did no such thing!" Ginny hissed back. "Do you think I'm that meddlesome?"

Hermione was on the verge of saying yes, but she bit her tongue, resisting the impulse to say one word that could possibly pull them into another bitter argument. That and the fact that Ginny looked genuinely shocked when she heard Draco's name.

"What does he want?" Ginny questioned, more curiously, her voice losing its edge. "Did he say anything?"

"No," Hermione replied worriedly, wringing her hands. And just like that they were friends again. "But he did say he wanted to talk."

Ginny nodded, gathering her locks into a ponytail. "I'll take Rosie and George with me. You come over to the Burrow when you're done talking, alright? Or you could owl me. I could spend the night here with you and Rosie." Looking Hermione in the eye, she grinned mischievously. "Of course, if you've already got company…"

"Ginny, don't!" Hermione implored. "Melrin only knows what he could possibly talk about and I don't want to even _think_ about it right now. Hold on, I'm going to pack you an overnight bag for Rosie just in case." Hermione was shifting into her organization mode, something she often did as a way to calm herself down.

Busying herself with filling the bag to the brim with diapers and powdered milk, Hermione allowed her mind to race with thoughts. What could he possibly have wanted? Did he come here to make apologize? Perhaps he had expected her to apologize instead.

Straightening, she handed the bag wordlessly to Ginny who took it without much question. As Ginny exited her bedroom, Hermione took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Glancing at her dresser quickly, Hermione tucked a few curls behind her ears, trying to neaten her appearance. She briefly considered changing out of her tank top and shorts, but she decided that would have been overkill. She wasn't going to switch outfits just for Draco Malfoy.

"So we'll see you later?" Ginny said, raising an eyebrow at her the moment Hermione stepped out of her bedroom.

Hermione nodded, walking over to kiss Rosie goodbye. "Mummy'll see you later, honey," she whispered, stroking her daughter's curls. She supposed Rosie was really out of it – the move must have exhausted her.

Draco watched on, and didn't say anything. Hermione watched him watching on. It felt surreal. She opened her mouth a few seconds after she heard the Apparation pop – signaling that Ginny and George had left – but she closed it again once she realized she didn't know what she wanted to say.

"I needed to talk to you," Draco began, "but I didn't know you had guests over. You didn't have to send them back early. I could have come back after you were done."

"No," Hermione said a little too quickly. "I mean, it's ok. They've been doing so much work as it is…I'm sure they're glad to go."

"How exactly did you know I was living here?" Hermione asked, curiousity getting the better of her.

"Oh," Draco said, "Harry. I was speaking to him a couple weeks back and he mentioned you were moving into this place."

"So he happened to quote you the exact address of my apartment?" Hermione asked, incredulous. She was going to have to have a talk with Harry soon it seemed.

Draco raised his eyebrows but didn't reply. He looked around the living room briefly, taking in the curtains and red couch, his eyes pausing for a second longer on the television.

Hermione waited patiently. She didn't want to extract the words out of him. He could say whatever he wanted to say to her, but she wasn't going to help him.

"I came to talk to you about – " Draco paused, searching for the right word. A she did, she shoved his hands into his pockets, and resumed looking around.

Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. "About?" she prompted.

Draco turned his head to face her. The rest of his body was still facing away from her. "Us," he said simply.

"I wasn't aware there was an _us_," Hermione replied dryly. "You made it pretty clear the other time that it was an all or nothing situation. I thought we were done."

"Is that what you honestly think?" Draco asked, frowning. He turned towards her now, slowing advancing onto her. His confident strides made Hermione's breath hitch. She had forgotten how powerful he looked just _walking_.

"I don't know," Hermione replied, feigning confusion. "But I'm sure if I read today's Prophet I'd get a better understanding…"

"Ah," Draco replied, smirking slightly. "You practically ran a vendetta against that ghastly paper. Now you're drinking in it's every word?"

"I didn't say I was!" Hermione snapped, losing a little of her patience. Her fingers flew to her temples where she furiously rubbed at its pulsating point, trying to knead away the forming headache. "Look, it's been a tiring day, and I really just want to get to bed, Draco. Do you have something to say to me at all?"

"I made you a list," Draco replied, pulling out a neatly folded parchment out of his coat pocket. Unfolding it, he waved his wand and sent it soaring towards Hermione, who held out her hand to grab it.

"List?" she asked, looking down at the paper before her. "I didn't - oh." Hermione saw that the paper before her was divided neatly into two coloumns, each bearing the heading _Pros_ and _Cons_. Her eyes immediately zoomed into the _Cons - naggy, indecisive, fickle, obsessive compulsive. _She forced herself to stop reading._ "_What the fuck is your problem?" she asked, her hand shaking as she balled up the piece of paper. "You come in here announcing a list of my weaknesses? What have I ever done -"

"I thought I could forget you, Granger," Draco said quietly, looking her straight in the eye. "I thought that by listing every possible feature about you that I was once disagreeable with, I'd get you out of my mind. But I _can't._ I can't stop thinking about you!" Draco raked a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I'm at work, and I think of you. I'm at home - you. I'm with Toria - _you, you, you_. I can't get you out of my mind, Granger! Do you know how frustrating that is?"

"That's not my problem, now is it?" Hermione replied scathingly, choosing not to give him an easy in.

"You don't know how it feels, Granger. You like me and then you don't, and then you do - as for me, I just can't stop thinking about how badly I fucked up the last time we met. I knew I shouldnt have said all those things," Draco said, now searching her face for some sort of answer. "I'm going insane, Hermione," Draco said, his voice almost pleading. "I ant you - no I think - I think _need _you. Nothing has been right since that day at the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione could feel her heart beating faster and faster. She crossed her arms over her chest stared at him, not really believing the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. She was ready to bite his head off for that stupid list, but suddenly it didn't seem so important anymore.

"I tried forgetting you too," Hermione said, her voice steady. She was still standing on her side of the room while Draco stood a few good feet away from her.

"Did it work?" Draco asked, leaning back on his heels slightly. He looked so handsome and he wasn't even trying. If looks could kill, Draco was doing a good job. Hermione had trouble catching her breath each time she took in his features.

Hermione kept quiet for the longest possible time. She could hear the clock ticking as Draco patiently awaited her answer. "No," she replied, her voice no louder than the ticking clock.

"See," Draco said, inching his way closer to her. He was close enough for her to smell his aftershave. "I think there's a reason for that."

"You do, do you?" Hermione whispered, not moving from her spot. Every inch of her body was screaming at her to throw her arms around Draco to snog him senseless the way she once did for Ron.

He was so close now, she could see the different flecks of grey in his irises. He raised an unshaking hand, weaving it through her hair. Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the way his touch made her feel almost feather light.

Running a thumb along her jaw, he said, "I do."

This time, Hermione leaned in, allowing her lips to meet Draco's. He tasted sweet, just like she had imagined. She sighed into his mouth, opening her lips just a little more to deepen the kiss. Slipping her arms around his waist, Hermione felt her body melt into his as Draco took his time to kiss her.

He kissed her softly, tracing her lips with his tongue before finally slipping tongue into her mouth. It felt nothing short of bliss as Hermione responded to his touch. It felt as though electric currents were buzzing through them, and Hermione felt alive.

She could feel something hard forming between him and as Draco's hand slipped beneath her tank top, caressing her skin with feather light touches, she pulled back reluctantly, leaning her forehead against his.

"Don't go," he said, closing his eyes, breathing heavily.

Hermione stared at him through her half opened eyes. She understood why he said that. She had done that to him way too many times before. This kiss however, was enough to tell her that she had wasted so much time trying to suppress her feelings for him. There was something between them – that was undeniable.

"What about Astoria…" she managed to gasp out as Draco kissed her face. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks – everything, as though every inch of her was to be devoured.

"I ended things with her before I came to see you," he replied, moving back to her lips. He kissed her again, a little more slow this time, as she played with the soft hair at the base of his neck. "I want you. I want all of you, Hermione. You, Rosie…let me take care of you, let me take care of Rosie…let it be _me_, Granger…" he said as they broke away regretfully.

Hermione sighed contently. Was she ready for this? It was all happening so fast, but at the same time, it felt as thought it was a long time coming. "Yes," she said, the only answer floating through her mind.

Her heart warmed deliciously at the sight of Draco's smile. A real full smile from him as he reveled in her response.

"Yes," she said again, laughing as he watched his smile grow impossibly bigger. "_Yes_, Draco Malfoy. I want it to be you."

"Damn right you do, Granger,' Draco replied, smirking as he dipped his head down to capture her lips in another kiss.

It was beautiful, breathtaking, overwhelming – it was everything and then some. Hermione kissed him back with a fervor that matched him. After weeks of agonizing, Hermione felt a spark of joy light up from within. Everything was finally falling into place.


	8. Chapter 8

**had a little bit of spare time! hope you guys like this...i'm heading back to school next week, so keeping my fingers crossed to stick to my updating schedule lol.**

**nothing belongs to me, it all belongs to j.k rowling but i'd love it if you left your thoughts and comments! ^^**

* * *

"So you guys just _kissed _after that?" Ginny asked gleefully, clasping her hands together. "That is about the most romantic thing I've heard in years Hermione!" she swooned, leaning back into the comfy couch.

Hermione grinned despite herself, as she pulled out a fresh set of clothes for Rose to change into. Pairing her daughter's pyjama with matching socks, Hermione returned to the couch where Rosie was sitting clad in nothing but her diapers. "It was just a kiss," she replied, blushing slightly as she recalled how soft Draco's lips felt pressed onto hers.

"You astound me," Ginny said, laughing. "When you actually have reason to fret over something, you downplay it to practically _nothing_. When it's staring you right in the face, you walk right past it refusing to acknowledge it!" Shaking her head, Ginny reached out for the pyjama top from Hermione, pulling it over Rosie's head in a swift motion.

"Mummy! Go! Go!" Rosie said, frowning deeply. "Go now."

"You can go play with James once you're changed, okay?" Hermione said, smiling down at her daughter. Helping Rosie into her pyjama bottoms, Hermione stretched out to reach for the hairbrush that was situated just inches from her grip. "Now sit still so Mummy can braid your hair."

Ginny watched as Rosie squirmed impatiently in Hermione's lap. She sighed sadly for a moment. "Do you ever think we rushed into this too fast?" her hand instinctively went to her belly, where she drummed her fingers lightly, still pondering her own question. "I mean, I wouldn't give up James or this little one inside me for the world, but sometimes I really wonder if we rushed into this whole marriage and family thing too fast…"

Extracting the hair tie from between her teeth, Hermione deftly wrapped it around the bottom of one of Rosie's braids. "You mean you and Harry getting married too fast?"

"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, "that and if you know, if we'd waited or taken a year apart would anything have changed."

"I think it would have made a big difference for me," Hermione replied as she sectioned off the other of Rosie's wild curls into three. "I would have liked to wait out our engagement but you know Ron – he was all or nothing." Finally finished the braid, Hermione turned to Ginny and smiled, "But with you and Harry, I think regardless of how long you guys waited you would eventually have come back to each other."

"You do?" Ginny asked, watching as Rosie hopped off her mother's lap to play with her cousin.

"Yes," Hermione said with a little more conviction. "I've never seen a love like yours. I don't know how you sat back, trusting him to well, possibly walk into his own death…and all that faith you had, waiting for him – what's true love if that isn't?" Hermione tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears, watching her friend who looked somewhat pleased with her answer. "And I don't know if Ron ever told you this but Harry took out the map every night, watching for your name…he's stare at it for hours. You were always in his thoughts."

"You're right," Ginny said sighing. "I don't even know why I brought up that question in the first place…sometimes I just cant shut my thoughts off. It can be quite irritating."

Hermione snorted. "Don't I know what you mean…and anyway, it's perfectly normal. We're human beings. We question every good thing that comes into our life. It's like we were preconditioned to only accept bad stuff."

Ginny smirked. "Speaking from experience are we, Hermione?"

"Shut it," Hermione warned, as she stood up and dusted her pants off. Ginny still didn't wipe that smirk off her face as she followed Hermione into her bedroom.

"So what time is he picking you up again?" Ginny asked, her tone a little more somber now.

Hermione shuffled through her closet, looking for a decent outfit to wear tonight. So far, nothing seemed even remotely good enough. "He said seven," she called out, knowing her voice was probably too muffled for Ginny to understand.

"He's bringing _Steven_?" Ginny asked from behind her, incredulously. "Who in the hell is this Steven, Hermione? I didn't know you were into that sort of thing!"

"Ginny," Hermione groaned now turning around. "I said that he said _seven_." Hermione sighed and repeated slowly, "_He - said - seven_. He's not bringing anyone else and I am _not _into whatever weird thing you mentioned!"

"I didn't think so," Ginny agreed, lowering the hand that was momentarily placed across her heart. "You should wear that dress we bought in January, Hermione. Draco won't know what hit him."

Hermione retreated back into her wardrobe only to return seconds later with a wine red dress that was still hanging neatly in its dress bag. "You mean this?" se asked, wrinkling her nose. "Isn't this a bit much? It's our first date, I don't want to seem too...much."

"Come on," Ginny insisted, "if you keep making excuses you would never find a reason to put on that gorgeous dress and it'd be sitting inside your closet rotting. It's gorgeous, Hermione," Ginny said, now slipping her hand into the dress bag to rub her fingers against the soft fabric.

Hermione bit her lip as she studied the dress. It was indeed gorgeous as Ginny described. It had a v-neck halter top that was covered in intricate patterned beads that were jet back against the deep wine red fabric. The bottom half of the dress was a fitted a line skirt that fell somewhere around her knees. The material was so smooth and silky that the moment Hermione tried it on, it felt as though she was slipping on water instead of an actual dress.

"Here," Ginny said, bending down to retrieve shoes from the neat row lined in Hermione's closet. "These will go well," she nodded towards the dress that Hermione was still observing.

Two hours later found Hermione reciting off the list she had prepared for Ginny. "You can Floo over to my parents if there's anything you need, and it's normal for her to get up between the hours of ten to eleven – although I don't see why it should matter, because I would probably be home by then."

"Hermione," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Have you met my son? Rosie is a tamed little bunny compared to him. We'll be fine, so stop worrying."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but she shut it immediately when she heard three smart raps against her front door.

"Holy shit," she mumbled to a laughing Ginny. "I'm really going to do this, aren't I?"

"Yes you are," Ginny said. "Now stop over analyzing everything and go open that door!" Ginny spun Hermione around on her shoulders and pushed her a little, hoping that Hermione would shake off her worries.

The moment Hermione opened the front door; she felt her worries ebbing away. Draco stood there, holding a bouquet of tulips looking positively dashing in his charcoal grey suit that only made his grey eyes pop even more.

"Hullo," he said, smiling instead of smirking. "These are for you." He handed the bouquet of colourful flowers over to Hermione, delighting in the fact that Hermione's face lit up at the sight of his flowers. He wondered how she would look when he showed her were they were going to have dinner.

"Thanks, they're beautiful," Hermione said, accepting the flowers from him. "Just give me a second, I want to put them in a vase." She retreated back into her apartment while Ginny met her halfway to take the flowers.

"I've got it covered," Ginny said smiling, "You go on and enjoy your night and not worry about a thing."

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione said appreciatively. "Kiss Rosie and James goodnight for me?"

"Will do," Ginny replied from somewhere in the kitchen.

Quickly grabbing her clutch, Hermione exited the apartment again, ready for her night to begin. She didn't really. know what Draco had planned, but she was determined to enjoy it. She had spent too much time thinking and re-thinking tonight that she decided she was going to throw caution to the wind. Come what may, she was prepared to live her life again.

* * *

Draco glanced over his menu for the second time that night. They weren't even past ordering drinks but he couldn't help but stare at Hermione. She looked like a woman who'd just walked off the modeling runway. It was hard to believe that she had her own little one.

The deep red dress she was using made her skin glow so bright it was as thought she was radiating light. Her make-up was subtle, Draco thought, but it certainly enhanced her every feature. Her eyes were so chocolately against the curl of her black lashes and her bow lips were painted the same deep red as her dress.

"Do I have lettuce caught in my teeth or something?" Hermione asked, smiling playfully. "That's almost the fifth time you've been doing that tonight," she said, lowering her eyes back to her menu.

So Draco miscounted. Whatever, he thought. Five wasn't that far away form two anyway. "You look beautiful Granger," he said, reaching across to brush his fingers across her hand that was resting beside the saltshaker.

"Thank you," she replied, setting down the menu. "You look quite handsome yourself, Mister Malfoy."

"I know," Draco replied, smirking cockily and earning an eye roll from her. The remained silent for a few seconds as the Draco signaled to the waiter that they were ready to order.

As the waiter collected and recited their orders, Hermione let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. The night was going good so far. They didn't feel awkward around one another, and Hermione was more than happy with the restaurant that Draco had picked out. It was a posh wizarding Italian restaurant that was hidden in Diagon Alley. The floating trays and candles still unnerved her a little, but she supposed it was rather exotic – dining in a posh wizarding restaurant.

"So I'm sorry Rosie couldn't join us tonight," Draco said, sipping his red wine. Hermione had ordered red for herself since she was having a salmon and spinach ravioli. "I couldn't reshuffle things in the afternoon, so I couldn't exactly do a lunch date like we preferred…"

"It's quite alright," Hermione said, inching her wine glass towards herself. "Ginny has been saying she wanted to spend some time with her, and Rosie would never say no to a sleepover with James…so I guess it all works out for the best." She took a sip of her wine, relishing the smoothness of it. It slid down her throat effortlessly, without so much as stinging the back of her tongue the way cheaper wines would have.

Draco nodded, glad that they were talking. He wouldn't have to have an excuse to train his eyes on her face before their food came. "Maybe we could do lunch over the weekend – I usually don't have work then, and Rosie could come along if you'd prefer it."

Hermione bit her lips, tilting her head to the side. "Don't get me wrong," she began. "Rosie adores you…"

"But?" Draco prompted., raising an eyebrow.

"But," Hermione continued, taking in a deep breath, "for now I think it should just be you and me. I don't want her to get too attached to you and you know, if – "

"Ah," Draco said, leaning back into his chair. "If we broke up you wouldn't want _Rosie_ to be hurt."

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding, glad that he understood her point so fast. It was a relief not to have to explain every single thing on her mind to him. "I mean, lets see how you and me go – "

"I think we go pretty damned well," Draco cut in, "and I'm speaking based on the past few weeks where I actually spent time with your daughter."

"I know," Hermione said, reaching out to clasp Draco's free hand. "But try to understand Draco – I want this to work too. I really do. I just have to be really careful with whatever I do. I have to think twice, once for myself and once more for Rosie."

Their food had arrived and it spared Draco from replying Hermione. It wasn't that he disagreed. He just didn't realize she would be uncomfortable having him around her daughter.

"It's not like I don't like having you around Rosie," Hermione said as though reading his mind, "I do. I just want to be sure that we –" she indicated at the space between them, moving her finger back and forth as she did, "work out before I introduce such a big change to Rosie."

Draco nodded. He could live with that. "From what you're saying, you want to see if I'm for keeps before bringing me into your family." He saw Hermione blushed, letting him know he'd hit the nail on the head. Leaning forward slight, he looked her in the eye. "I meant what I said, Granger. I _want_ to take care of you and Rosie. If you need months or even years for me to prove that to you – I'd do it."

"You filthy _whore_."

Hermione turned around to the voice as though she was struck with a hot iron and Draco slowly raised his eyes to meet a very familiar orange carrot topped hair.

"Ron," Hermione gasped angrily, her jaw dropping open a few inches. "What the _hell_- "

"Don't talk to me, you cock sucking slut," Ron snapped. "Is _this_ –" he jerked his head in Draco's direction, "why you hurried through our divorce?"

"Don't talk to her that way," Draco growled, already half way out of his seat.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked up at her ex-husband. In a matter of seconds she stood up, drawing herself to her full height. "You hurried through the damn divorce, Ronald!" she hissed. "And whatever it is you have to say, it can wait. I suggest you sober up with a coffee and stop making a scene here!"

"Yeah,' Ron said loudly. "Trying to get rid of me, are you? So you can go back to your fucking dinner plans with the _enemy. _You've stooped so low, Hermione. I didn't think you would allow just anyone to shove their dicks –"

The next thing Hermione knew, Ron was pressed up against the nearest wall, Draco's arm holding him there. Draco looked completely livid, but his voice was so quiet that she was sure everyone in the restaurant was straining his or her ear to catch his every word. "_Apologize_ to Granger," he said menacingly. Ron paled visibly.

Hermione wasn't one for violence, but she bit her tongue, refraining herself from stopping Draco. The _nerve_ Ron had, to say all those things. She could feel her face burning up from the scene Ron had created. There were flashbulbs popping and Hermione groaned inwardly, knowing that this little drama was going to make it to the morning Prophet.

Ron was laughing down at Draco and he made a pretty guttural sound before spitting right into Draco's face. Draco dropped him like he was vermin, and quickly muttered a quick Scourgify at himself.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He was shaking and he felt Hermione's dainty hand on his shoulder. Her eyes begged him to take her away from this embarrassment. He nodded subtly, picking up her jacket that was draped behind her chair.

Pulling out his pouch of Galleons, Draco tipped an extra generous tip beside their uneaten meals. The restaurant was going to appreciate this for the clean up he had to do. Ron was still laughing as he stared at Draco, and Draaco pulled out his wand and aimed it at his face ignoring Hermione's alarmed whispers to lower his wand.

A bright orange light erupted from the end of his wand, and Draco watched as Ron slumped over, and burped loudly. This scene was so highly reminiscent of their second year that Draco had to fight his urge to smirk.

He placed a hand on Hermione's petite waist, gently steering her away from the direction of another giant approaching slug. No one messed with Malfoys and their women.

* * *

"I'm so sorry about tonight," Hermione said, for the umpteenth time as they sat in Draco's living room. They had apparated back to Draco's house where it was thankfully empty. Narcissa and the Greengrass were spending some much-needed time together it seemed.

"_I'm_ sorry," Draco said, shaking his head. "I should have picked a better place – one without the whole of the wizarding community breathing down our backs…"

"Draco…" Hermione said, feeling touched that he would even think it was his fault.

"I just wanted to show you that I could give you a good time you know?" he sighed as he flipped open the pizza boxes and poured wine into their glasses. "You got all dressed up to sit in my living room, and I'm sorry for that…"

"It's not your _fault_, Draco," Hermione said firmly. "Ronald is known for his uncanny ability to ruin a person's night."

"Or life," Draco interjected grumpily.

"Or life," Hermione agreed, looking up to see Draco loosening his tie and popping open the first button of his shirt. She had to swallow a couple of times as she saw this. "But look, this is much better. We haven't gone off track...we've just _improvised_ the situation."

Draco snorted before sitting down next to her. "Aren't you the poster girl for optimism..."

"Yes well," Hermione said frowning, "I'd much prefer to spend the rest of the night with you than watching Ron vomit slugs in the corner while we have dinner!" Draco rolled his eyes as she said this and Hermione stifled the urge to smack hi macros the arm. "You were just as childish as he was – you shouldn't have cursed him like that, you know."

"Granger," Draco said flatly, "I'm not about to defend my actions alright? He was so fucking rude to you, if I had my way I'd have cursed him into the next century. In _fact_, I'm practically a martyr if you think about it – the curse only lasts for about a day!"

Hermione's eyes widened so much Draco was sure he'd done them permanent damage. "You _said_ it was nothing more than twenty minute _tops_!" she practically shrieked.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair, scratching the back of his neck. "Well I didn't see the point in upsetting you any further," he tried sheepishly.

"So you lied to me instead?" Hermione asked furiously, a few of her curls spilling out from her elegant chignon. She leant forwards on the couch and Draco could smell her perfume. "I really don't know where you get off –"

Draco wasn't really listening anymore. He had the whole of tonight mapped out in his head – dinner, drinks and maybe a goodnight kiss. It was supposed to be the perfect first date. It was supposed to give him a chance to get to know the feisty woman opposite him better. But instead he had spent the night cursing her ex husband, ordering pizza and squabbling with Granger.

So, in that moment and time, Draco decided to take Hermione's advice a little more seriously. Nothing could go bad if he just _improvised_ the situation a little bit right?

Meeting her halfway, Draco stemmed her tirade of scoldings the only way he knew how. He pressed his lips to hers, gently cupping her face as he did, running a thumb down her jawline as he deepened their kiss.

He felt her shoulders relax as she gave in to his touch, and he looped his hand around her waist, looping her closer to him. _This_ was life. Kissing Hermione Granger on his couch. If kissing her was all he was allowed to do, he was fine by that. There was nothing more exquisite tasting than Hermione Granger.

Hermione pulled back reluctantly, and breathed heavily. "This isn't over," she playfully warned, looking at Draco's half opened eyes. "I'm still going to lecture you once I'm done taking advantage of you, you know?"

"Well, I'm glad," Draco replied kissing her soundly.

They remained that way and Draco slowly inching his hand up her waist to cup her breast, running his thumb over her erect nipple. She groaned delightfully and Draco took this as a positive sign. Slipping the fabric to the side, Draco gently rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, relishing how turned on she was making him feel.

"Draco," she panted, slowly pushing his hand away. "I – I'm not ready,"

Mustering all his self-restraint, Draco gave her nipple one last tweak before extracting his hand. He nodded, and kissed her a couple more times before pulling her close to rest on his shoulder. "Ok," he said. "We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to get your hopes up or anything."

"Hey," Draco said, tipping her chin up to meet her eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm just as happy having dinner with you. In fact, the kiss was a major bonus."

Hermione grinned a little, not really believing what she was hearing. "You mean that?"

"Of course I do," Draco said, laughing a little as he kissed her again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, that was incredibly hot – " they both glanced down at his pants where true enough, a sizable tent had formed, "- but, I told you, I'm here for the whole package, not just the sex."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. "So…" she began, as Draco closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "What do we do now?"

"Mmm…anything, I guess." Draco said, cracking his eye open a little. "We do have food…"

"And wine," Hermione supplied.

"So we eat," Draco said, smiling.

Hermione grabbed a slice of pizza off the box, handing it to Draco. She would be lying if she said she wasn't entirely surprised. If she had turned down Ron for sex it would involve some very dry and rough humping that would usually leave in pain and tears that it seemed so much smarter for her to have given in to the sex in the first place.

But here, she could be truthful with Draco, without him turning all cavemen on her. She also couldn't recall ever feeling that hot from just a simple kiss. No, Hermione wasn't going to rush this. She was going to enjoy as much of this as she could.

As though reading her mind, Draco chewed on his pizza and asked her, "Sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione shook her head, not knowing where to begin. "You give me choices you know? I know I'm entitled to them. But it's been so long that it feel so refreshing…"

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "You mean the usual would have been sex forced onto you?" he asked, half jokingly. When Hermione didn't respond immediately, Draco slowly lowered his pizza. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice hollow.

Hermione raised her shoulder in a half shrug. "He always said he was my husband you know, and _technically_ it wasn't rape…"

"Fucking bastard," Draco muttered angrily, throwing down the remainder of his pizza, all his appetite gone. "I should have cursed him to shit slugs instead, bet he would have liked that." Hermione smiled sadly, feeling a little astonished that she was discussing her deepest secrets with Draco and not feeling like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. "Listen," Draco said, turning towards her. "You don't ever have to oblige me, Hermione. Whatever we do, it's got to be mutual, and if you don't like it, you just have to tell me."

"I know," Hermione said, it wasn't that I didn't _tell_ him," she explained. "He just refused to listen."

"Why did you stay on then?" Draco asked, genuinely puzzled. He couldn't for the life of him understand why Hermione would choose to be with such an oppressive man.

"I dunno," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I supposed I really wanted it to work. I've never failed at anything…and that was my motivation for the first year. And then there was Rosie. And then there was this idea I had etched into my head that a child should never grow up in an incomplete family and the next I knew, I'd wasted five years of my life."

Hermione watched as Draco nodded as she spoke, as though trying to absorb every word and she smiled at him. Looking down, she noticed something peeking from his sleeve. Noticing where she was looking, Draco quickly tugged his sleeve down.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Nothing can charm this piece of shit away."

"I'm not really bothered," Hermione said, realizing that she wasn't lying.

Draco sighed again before pulling back his sleeve and revealing his Dark Mark. "I didn't want it. But he tortured my parents in front of me." Hermione kept mum, not really knowing what to say. "And I could never really kill Dumbledore so he thought he could finish off my family by the end of the year, actually."

"I'm so sorry, Draco,' Hermione said quietly.

"Not as sorry as I am when I think of what my Aunt Bella did to you,' Draco replied, not meeting her eye. He was looking in the other direction, and his voice was strangled. "I know you think that I'm crazy, going after you like I did. Trying my damnedest to make it work…"

"I don't think that Draco –"

"But I really like you, Granger," he said, now turning towards her and furiously palming his eyes. "And I feel that I have to make up for so much –"

"Shhh," Hermione said, pulling him in for another kiss. It was a salty kiss and Hermione could taste his tears mingled with a few of her own. She kissed him hard, hoping that she could convey all her unsaid thoughts.

She knew he had changed for the better and she wished he stopped thinking that he wasn't worthy of her.

They stayed that way for the remainder of the night, talking about everything – from the war, to the struggles Hermione faced in her marriage, right down to their days at Hogwarts. It felt refreshing, Hermione thought to finally get the bulk of things off her chest.

When Narcissa returned somewhere near midnight, she smiled slightly at the scene before her. Draco's feet were propped on the coffee table and his head was thrown back on the couch. Hermione's head was gently rising and falling, following the rhythm of Draco's breathing as she rested against her chest.

She didn't think she would ever live to see this, but for once since the war, Draco finally looked peaceful, as he slept – not with a frowned embossed onto his features. Grabbing a blanket, Narcissa threw it over the couple, careful not to wake them up as she levitated the empty pizza boxes to the kitchen sink.

Her son was living again – _really_ living and she'd be damned if she allowed anything to get in the way of that.


	9. Chapter 9

**I've got finals next week, so of course I'll be typing away instead of studying. Ah well. Enjoy! And remember to review!**

**Nothing belongs to me. It all belongs to the amazing JK Rowling.**

* * *

"So, are you nervous?" Ginny asked, balancing James on her hip.

"Well, _I_ know _I'll_ feel better if you give him here," Harry replied, stepping forward to draw James out of Ginny's arm. "We've been over this a million times, Gin – "

"Oh hush," Ginny said sweetly, leaning in to give Harry a kiss on the lips. "I'm a big girl, Harry James Potter and you best remember it…"

"Wouldn't dare forget it, love," Harry said, pulling back with a slightly dazed look on his face. How he managed to have that face everytime Ginny kissed him still amazed Hermione to no end. "But I'd still rather have you in a piece you know."

"Harry's right," Hermione said, directing her wand at her a few more books. They flew neatly above her head and arranged themselves on the shelves behind her. "You're entering your third trimester and you shouldn't engage in heavy lifting…"

Ginny rolled her eyes and walked around the office, gently supporting the small of her back. "So are you excited to get back to work?"

"Well, yes…" Hermione replied, now arranging her quill in order of importance. "And no."

"Why not?" Ginny asked incredulously. "I mean, your boyfriend is right across the hall, you two could suck faces anytime you wanted!"

"Weasley, crude is definitely not your style."

"Hi,' Hermione said, beaming at Draco, who was casually leaning against her office door.

"Hey," Draco replied, smiling at her with the same intensity.

Not far from him, Hermione could see Harry faking vomit faces while Ginny shook silently with laughter. "Shut it you two," Hermione warned, "or I will engage in a very lengthy and romantic kiss right here –"

"Harry," Ginny swiftly interrupted, "I think that's our cue to leave."

"What?" Harry protested weakly. "No! The fun's just about to begin..."

"You would think it's fun, wouldn't you?" Ginny replied scathingly, making Harry's smile vanish as he mouthed _help me_ at a shrugging Hermione and Draco. Ginny's mood swings were hard to predict.

The only person she ever refrained from lashing out against was Hermione. Even Draco wasn't spared. He received a good telling off for buying Hermione lilies with the pollen buds still attached to them a few days ago. Didn't he _know_ that it could induce childhood asthma on Rosie?

"So, I think this calls for a celebration," Draco said now, his grey eyes twinkling. "You getting back to work within such close proximity of my office…"

"Ah," Hermione said, pausing in the reorganizing of her desk. "So this isn't about my advancement and progress in life…it's about how easily you get to make your advancements on _me?_"

"_Exactly, _Granger."

"Welcome to the Draco Malfoy show…"

As Draco laughed along with her, Hermione felt her heart rapid expand with joy. They were going strong for a couple of weeks now, taking it as slow as a pair of snails racing to the finish line. And yet, it felt as though they were only together for less than a week.

The euphoric feeling that Hermione felt simply pushed her forward each morning, forcing her to test her boundaries, build her old life back again and stand up a stronger person. It wasn't easy and on some mornings when she had to apply ointment to Rosie's scarred bottom it took all the reserved energy she had, but little by little Hermione could feel herself walking out of the dark void that she had been in for so long.

She knew that she was responsible for her own changes and decisions to remain strong, but she would be lying f she didn't admit that waking up to breakfast with Draco Malfoy _definitely _sped up her recovery period.

"So what do you say?" Draco asked her, now looping his arms around her waist and dipping his head low for a kiss.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, against his lips, before plunging in for a sweet kiss.

* * *

"'Mione."

"Merlin!" Hermione shrieked, upsetting her inkbottle as her wrist smacked against it. Slowly putting down her quill, she raised her head to stare at the man who was sitting opposite her desk. How had she not noticed his presence before?

She silently cursed the new project she was working on. It kept her thoroughly engrossed and deaf to the world around her.

"What do you want, Ronald?" Hermione said, breathing tiredly through her nose.

"See? This is why we didn't work out. You act as though you're my mother…" Ron said, digging into his coat pocket. Hermione instinctively reached for her wand – a move that didn't go unnoticed by Ron. He raised his eyebrows. "Really, Hermione?"

He pulled out a packet of Chocolate Frog, staring at her with a little incredulity.

"I wouldn't put it past you," Hermione replied impertinently. "If you could hurt a harmless child, you could hurt me."

Ron brought his hand down so hard down onto the table that little drops of ink splashed onto Hermione's blouse. "And there we go again. I was wondering when you would bring that fucked up nonsense up."

Hermione half expected Draco to come charging through the door when Ron slammed his hand onto her table. Her eyes flickered over to his office, where his door was closed – a sign that he was out and about and not behind his desk.

"I don't have time for this, Ronald," Hermione said, choosing not to bite his bait. There was no point in egging him on.

"No," Ron replied curtly, now stuffing his face with the slippery frog. "You only have time to fuck that bastard Malfoy."

"Yes," Hermione replied, scathingly. "I'm going through a few more positions we have yet to try out tonight when you interrupted me. Care to weigh in, Ron?" She could see that she had struck a nerve but she didn't care. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in like that?

"Don't fuck with me," Ron growled.

Hermione leaned back against her chair, and folded her arms. She was shaking with anger and every bone in her body was screaming at her to blast her former husband out of her office.

"I came here to warn you about Malfoy," Ron said, jabbing his finger over his shoulder. "And you best listen. I couldn't give a fuck about what happens to you, you wretched woman, but I _do _care what sort of men you bring home to play with Rose –"

"Oh sod off," Hermione replied, now standing up and pointing her wand directly into Ron's face. "You didn't give a shit about Rosie and you didn't give a shit about me."

"If I didn't give a _shit_ about you, how did you think you got your job back? Liaising with the educational reforms in the Ministry?"

"What are you going on about?"

"I convinced the Ministry to give you this job!"

"Bollocks!"

Ron laughed, and Hermione could distinctly smell the faint trace of Forewhiskey on him. "You're a lying bastard," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "You lie about everything, Ron."

"Say what you want, 'Mione," Ron said, smirking. "You know I'm right. Umbridge drafted a nice long piece about how unstable you were to rejoin the Ministry. It was _me_ who convinced those old fools that while you were a little bonkers you could still do a good job."

Hermione looked away, refusing to believe anything the vile man before her said. And yet, every word seemed to inscribe itself inside of her brain. Had she really been the talk of the office? Why hadn't Draco, not to mention Harry told her anything about this?

"I came to warn you that I have insider's information on that rat bastard you're seeing. The Auror department – well, me and my boys anyway – we suspect that he's up to no good again. Playing with Lucius' old toys if you must know."

"No," Hermione said firmly. She jerked her head back to face him. "I know Draco."

"Say what you want," Ron said, standing up and nearly upsetting his chair. "You know you believe me. And I don't want Rose to be there when we drag him back to Azkaban, do you understand me?"

"Get the _hell_ out of my office," Hermione said, jabbing her wand at the door. A few red sparks shot out of her wand and Ron smiled as though this was a pleasant sight.

"Yeah, it's only yours because I said so, princess…" Ron said, advancing onto her now. Hermione stood her ground but narrowed her eyes. She was a breath away from cursing Ron into damnation. "You think about what I've said, alright?"

Ron left her office then, and Hermione sank slowly into her chair. She didn't believe a word he said about Draco – no that part wasn't troubling her. She felt dread seep through her like wildfire.

She knew why Ron was leading this hunt against Draco Malfoy. It was solely and primarily to prove a point that he could take away anything she had. Her fingers felt numb as she thought about how Draco's effort towards rebuilding his future would slip away simply because of her crazy, jealous ex-husband. _Merlin_.

* * *

"You alright?" Draco asked, peering over the wine menu.

For the third time that night, Hermione nodded silently, and forced herself to smile politely at Draco. Her mind was racing with thoughts. She wondered if it was tacky if she broke the news when she was drunk enough from the expensive wine? How exactly did one go about telling someone else they've ruined their future?

Draco knew Hermione had something on her mind, and he wasn't sure what it was. He kept replaying the events of today over in his again repeatedly. For a moment, he wondered if she was upset that he hadn't informed her when he stepped out of office earlier today? But that didn't really sound like his girlfriend. They were independent beings. They liked their own space.

"Granger, there's something bothering you," Draco stated. He knew it was a bold move considering that Hermione _hated_ it when someone told her what to do or how she was feeling. He waited for the worse but he was slightly surprised when she put her menu down and sighed tiredly.

Her knuckles immediately went to her temples and Draco associated that with very, _very_ bad news. "I've got something to tell you…"

She wasn't going to leave him was she?

"…But I think we shouldn't be here when I do it," she finished.

Draco cursed inwardly. Fucking hell, of course he would have the most horrible luck in the world. He merely nodded, his voice box not really functioning at that exact moment.

Pulling out a couple of wads of Muggle money, he left it on the table, knowing it would cover more than their dinner and tips if they had even bothered ordering. Well, at least someone was happy tonight.

Wordlessly, he held out his arm for her as she collected her shawl from her chair and wrapped it around her delicate body. Draco ran a hand through his hair and wondered if he should memorize this very simple move? Tonight might just be the last time that he would see it.

They Apparated back to her apartment since Rose was with her grandparents, and as Hermione hung her purse onto the back of the door, Draco nearly lost his composure.

"Granger," he said, his voice cracking. "Could you just spit it out, whatever it is? I mean – if you don't want to be with me anymore, you should just come right out and say it instead of dragging me through –"

"Oh, honey," Hermione said, her brown eyes looking so genuinely sad that Draco's heart almost stopped. It was as though he had just confirmed her thoughts aloud. She walked towards him and placed her arms around him.

Tiptoeing, she kissed him slowly, taking extra care to suck affectionately on his bottom lip the way he liked it. "I'm so happy with you, leaving you is the last thing on my mind, I promise," she said quietly, as they broke apart.

Draco frowned, confused. "Then why were you so detached this whole evening? The entire afternoon, really…"

"The thing is, I'm afraid of what I'm going to say…and I think it might make _you_ want to leave me instead."

"Granger, that could never happen," Draco said, blood rushing around his body. He felt much better and a little light headed after knowing she wasn't planning on going anywhere. "If anyone's got a reason to walk out of here, it's you…I'm a complete mess and you still bother with me…"

"Ron came by today," Hermione blurted, twisting her fingers.

"And?" Draco replied, not bothering to mask the hint of dislike in his voice. That bastard deserved to be tied to a stake and burnt.

"And he told me that the Auror department suspects that you're dabbling in the Dark Arts again and he's coming after you." Hermione walked around the small hall, twisting her fingers madly.

Draco shook his head. "No, Harry would tell me about this if he knew."

"Draco," Hermione said urgently, "I don't think he does. Ron is quite independent and has his own group of Junior Aurors. He's practically untouchable because this stupid community glorifies him, Draco."

"And they'd rather be dancing on my grave, I _know_ that Hermione," Draco said, none too politely, "but they've got nothing on me. I've been working on my cases day in and out. I've sold the Manor and my mother has a clean record ever since the War. All he's got is bullshit."

"But if he even accuses you, it could damage your reputation –"

"Hermione, I've got no reputation," Draco said bluntly, quickly losing his temper. "I'm trying to build one. He can't destroy what _isn't_ there!"

"You don't understand!" Hermione insisted, her neat hairdo slowly coming apart, tendril by tendril. "I don't want to be the one that ruins your effort at rebuilding your image! You've done a great job, and I don't want you to be taken down to pieces by this bigoted community just because of my deranged ex-husband!"

"And I'm telling you he's got nothing _to_ take down! I'm _clean_ Hermione. If he wants to waste his time, dragging my name through the mud, he'll be the one who ends up looking like an arsehole when there's nothing to prove!"

"Stop being so stubborn, Draco!" Hermione said, stamping her foot. Her tears were starting to flow and her mascara was eleaving faint black lines down her cheek. "You should get out while you can!"

"I don't want out, Granger!" Draco said, his volume matching hers. "Don't you get it? I'd rather stay by your side and prove to the world that I've got nothing to fear than run away like a coward that I once was!"

"No," Hermione said softly. "I will not let you bear the brunt of this ugly divorce, Draco. I – I just cant."

"Are you breaking up with me, Granger?" Draco said, pulling at his necktie and unbuttoning his top collar.

"I don't want to –"

"Then don't!" Draco shouted, losing his cool. "It's as simple as that! You and your fucking Gryffindor need to save everyone! I told you I want to be with you, and you say you want to be with me – why do you need to put up the whole martyr act?"

Hermione sniffled and Draco felt a twinge at making her cry harder. He knew she was trying to look out for him, but he was tired of this elf-sacrificial act those damned Gryffindors carried with them. He told her he had nothing to hide.

"If you believe me, then you know I have nothing to hide."

"I do believe you, Draco," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around her slender frame. "I just don't think it's fair that you have to go through with this."

Draco smirked. "Granger, I'm the last person who deserves fair. You know that –"

"Don't say that, Draco."

"Be that as it may, I've got nothing to hide and running away would only make it look as though I do."

Hermione sighed, and slowly sank down to the couch. Draco walked over to the kitchen and pulled out two tumbler glasses. Whiskey wasn't Hermione's choice of drink, but he supposed it couldn't hurt to calm her nerves a little.

He could hear her sniffling as she wiped up the last of her tears. Walking back, he handed her a glass and took his time sipping his drink while she downed hers in a go.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she said, her voice remorseful. "You don't deserve any of this trouble…"

"When will you believe me when I say you're worth it?" Draco asked quietly.

* * *

One minute they were fighting and the next they were walking backwards pell-mell into her bedroom. This was one of the things Hermione loved about Draco. He was so unpredictable.

She sighed as he grazed her bare sides with his fingers, leaving faint red marks across her skin. The alarming thought that this was their first time echoed in Hermione's head and she gulped down her doubts.

They had held off having sex only because Hermione admitted it felt strange to be jumping into bed with another man after five years of marriage. Draco never said much about this, except that he'd be happy when she was ready.

Of course, this didn't mean that it wasn't hard to stop when they got it going. The only thing that prevented Hermione from letting it go all the way was the stupid image of Ron in her head every time they got close. And _still,_ whenever she whispered how sorry she was, Draco would smile and climb off her, choosing to cuddle with her instead.

Tonight was different. The way Draco had insisted that she was a good enough reason to be dragged through mud – it made Hermione realize what a fool she was to keep on clinging to that tiny speck of her past. Draco deserved all of her and _then_ some.

"Granger…" Draco swiftly pulled Hermione's nude bra from her body. It unclasped and fell between them. Her eyes were half closed but she moaned loudly when Draco attached his hot mouth to her rapt nipple.

"Don't stop," she panted. Hermione unbuttoned his shirt, allowing it to fall behind him as he slowly lowered her onto the bed. His mouth left her breast and Hermione felt herself groaning in displeasure.

Quickly stepping out of his boxers and trousers, it took Draco one look at Hermione's eagle spread legs and inviting body to stiffen up hard. He had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

Hermione shifted up the bed, her eyes never leaving his. He wasted no time crawling atop her, removing the last article of clothing between them. Dipping his fingers into her wet folds, Draco shivered as Hermione bit down appreciatively on his neck. Merlin, he was going to lose it soon.

"Draco, _please_," she begged, clamping her eyes shut. Draco continued his slow, torturous strokes on her clit as he sucked another nipple into stiffness. "_Please,_ I want you inside me _now_."

Draco raised his head to look at the writhing brunette beneath him. "Look at me, Granger," he said. He didn't want this moment to stop, ever. "I want you to look at me when you cum, okay?"

Slowly, he pushed into her. "You're so fucking tight, Granger," he panted, biting his bottom lip and forcing himself not to lose it so fast. Hermione didn't help as she clenched harder around him.

"And you feel so good, Draco," Hermione said, arching her back as he filled her. He was going slowly and it was all Hermione could do to stop herself from slamming herself right down to meet his thrusts. "Harder," she panted, not caring what she sounded like.

Draco angled his head down to nip at her breast as he pounded deep into her. Her eyes were still open and Draco could see her pupils start to dilate. He kept up his speed, watching her expression. "I love you," she said, before her mouth formed an 'o' and she came down hard around him.

Draco momentarily lifted his head from her chest as he felt his movements start to go frantic. He was pumping hard into her now. "I love you too, Granger," he groaned, as he spilled into her.

They stayed that way, a sweaty heap. Then, Hermione laughed, kissing his sweaty forehead. "I believed we just confessed some really deep, intimate feelings while riding out our orgasms, Draco."

"You might be the only person in the world," Draco said, panting slightly, "who's able to say all of that in a single breath after an orgasm."

Hermione laughed even harder as she swatted his back. Draco was still on top of her, not bothering to pull out.

"I meant it though," she said, quietly, searching his tired, grey eyes.

"As did I, Hermione," Draco said, smiling as he kissed her softly.

* * *

"Well, well…as sweet as _that_ was…"

Hermione screamed as Draco withdrew from her so fast, she felt suddenly empty. He looked more angry than surprised and Hermione could have sworn that she was a million shades of red.

"While this is all very touching, we've come here to take your sorry arse back to Azkaban."

"NO!" Hermione shouted, reaching for her bathrobe that lay on the edge of the bed. Draco was reaching for his boxers and he didn't bother shielding anything from Ron as he got out of bed.

"Breaking and entering like a fucking pervert, Weasley?" he sneered, as he slipped on his trousers.

"No," Ron said gleefully. "Umbridge signed a new Decree disarming all wards around this hounds on the grounds of the possibility of recapturing a Death Eater."

"Ex-Death Eater," Draco corrected, his jaw tightening.

"Ron, _please_!" Hermione said frantically. "We can sort this out. Just leave Draco out of it!"

"RON! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"And there's my traitorous best friend. I should have known…" Ron said, feigning a tired sigh. "Would you hurry up there, Ferret face? I haven't got all day you know…"

"Fuck you, Weasel. Time is money, but seeing as you haven't got any, my wasting your time doesn't make a difference."

Ron huffed and clenched his jaw as he tried to think of a witty reply. He turned on his foot and left to meet Harry in the hall after a few seconds of silence.

"Draco, I _told _you," Hermione said, tears streaming from her face.

"I love you, Hermione," Draco said, cupping her face in his hands. "And while you still remember that, nothing can tear us apart ok? This will pass, I promise."

Hermione nodded, knowing that she didn't need to say that she loved him back for him to understand. They shared a kiss and Draco could taste the salt from Hermione's tears. "He'll be sorry he did this, Granger. Just you see…"

Hermione bit her lip as he pulled back. "Here," she said, quietly. Taking his forearm, she nonverbally covered up his Dark Mark with a strong Concealing Charm. "That should work for a few weeks…"

"Thank you, love," Draco said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be back with you sooner than you think."

"Oi! I really haven't got all day!" Ron said, returning from his shouting match with Harry. Harry pushed past him now, still in his pyjama pants, taking special care to bump him hard on the shoulder.

"I'll sort this out," he said, looking at Draco, and then Hermione. "As for now, I can't do anything, because this arrest is Ministry ordered by that _hag_ –"

"Do what you can, Potter," Draco said, now buttoning up his shirt.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly as he noticed how livid she looked. "You cannot attack Ron. I know you want to, but if you do, they'll put you in and give custody of Rose to Ron."

Hermione nodded imperceptibly as her face hardened. She shared another look with Draco, who gave her a slight tilt of his head before he joined the group of Aurors waiting for him outside.

She waited until everyone was gone and it was just Harry and herself. Taking out her wand, she blasted everything in sight, ruining her apartment. There was still dust settling into the carpet, and Harry panted slightly from getting out of her way as she blasted each object into smithereens.

"One day, Harry, I'm going to kill Ron."

Harry still didn't say anything. Hermione waited a minute longer before collapsing into Harry's arms and soaking his pinstriped pyjamas with uncontrollable tears.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm on break now, but it seems that I'm doing absolutely nothing to get my life in order. Ah, the perks of fanfiction...where you can pour hours into typing out fantasies. anyway, id just like to really really thank each of you who reviewed for the chapters...really, it makes my day whenever i see a fresh review, it just spurs me to write faster, and make my story more interesting.**

**i hope everyone is having a good day today :) nothing belongs to me, the brilliant world of harry potter and it's characters belong to j.k rowling. that said...have fun!**

* * *

Hermione turned yet another page of the book in front of her. Her eyes scanned the three other books in the 'discarded' pile and the thick wad of parchments that were clearly ruffled through.

It had only been an hour after Draco's arrest and Hermione felt as though she was getting nowhere. She palmed her eyes tiredly, not caring that it was past midnight. She wanted to – no she _had_ to – get Draco out before tomorrow was over. There was no doubt about that. It was her fault he was in there, and she was making damn sure that she would get him out.

"How's the research going, dear?"

Hermione looked up to find the kind eyes of David Granger. She flashed him a half smile – letting him know that she was nowhere to close to an ending, and neither was she close to giving up. It marveled her sometimes how her father could communicate with her with simple gestures. Not everything had to be spoken aloud.

"I just feel like I'm missing something," Hermione admitted, chewing on her lip. She frowned at the papers before her, trying to figure out some logic behind the Azkaban jailing process. "I _know_ Wizarding Law…I basically memorized a whole bunch of nonsense in Binn's classes, but I just cant seem to find an existing loophole…"

"Well, some good news for you – Rose is finally settled in," Norah silently shut Rose's bedroom door behind her. "I still don't understand why you didn't let her spend the night with us, Hermione. It was a little late to wake that poor girl up and shuffle her back here…"

"Norah..." David's voice was soft, but firm. It was a voice he used to let his wife know that she should drop the topic. "Hermione just needed some family around her after what happened, isn't that right, button?"

"Well, yes and no," Hermione said, sighing. "Mum, Dad, to be completely honest, I was afraid that Ron might show up at your place and use magic against you to get Rose for himself or something of that sort."

Norah's jaw went slack and David's eyes flashed dangerously. "He wouldn't," David said, his voice nothing but a growl.

"Look what he did to Draco, Dad," Hermione pointed out gently. "And Draco was merely a pawn in his game…I just thought it would be best for us to be together for now. Harry's back at the Ministry setting up all sorts of wards and protections around our houses. I want to be sure it's absolutely safe before you guys went home."

Norah was clutching her chest and the look on her face was absolute disgust. Sure, she had never fancied Ronald Weasley from the first minute she met him, but she'd always held back her opinions because she figured that he made Hermione happy and content. She'd never thought that he was capable of being so vengeful and sadistic however. And judging from the family he was brought up in, Norah would have expected Ronald Weasley to be the _last_ person to be as horrid as he currently was.

There was a swooshing sound in her fireplace and Hermione jumped up almost immediately, expecting to see Harry who promised to be back with some news as soon as he possible.

Instead, she felt her heart skip a beat when she saw a tall figure with blonde hair stepping out from the fireplace. She regained her composure of her breathing however, she noticed that this figure was a head or so shorter than Draco and the pale hair was a shade lighter than Draco's.

"Granger." Narcissa brushed soot off her travelling cloak. Her eyes swept over Hermione's modest apartment before she walked towards Hermione, completely ignoring David and Norah. "Blasie – I trust you know who he is – is on his way. He'll be here as soon as he finds a way to get Draco out of that horrid place."

"Narcissa, these are my –"

"In the mean time, perhaps you would not mind explaining to me why you thought it was perfectly reasonable to not inform me of my son's arrest?" Narcissa cut her mid sentence, an arched eyebrow quivering just a fraction. Behind the cold demeanor Hermione could see a frightened old woman, who was battling for _some_ control.

Hermione's fingers flew to her temple, massaging the knots that were beginning to form around her scalp. "Narcissa, don't snap at me like that, really." Her voice was clipped and she could see that the old witch was a little taken aback by her frankness. "These are my parents, David and Norah."

Narcissa gave them a brief once over and the tiniest hint of a nod before she turned back to Hermione.

"I'm really sorry we didn't tell you about Draco. My family was in grave danger, and I was trying to find a way to get Draco out of Azkaban that it just slipped my mind." Hermione noticed that Narcissa's features barely softened. "I'm _really_ sorry, Narcissa. It makes no sense why we didn't inform you right away – but the only priority on my mind was getting Draco out of there."

For a few silent minutes, it seemed as though Narcissa was ready to scream at Hermione. Hermione braced herself for this. How bad could her day get, anyway? It was already king in the gutters.

And then the most bizarre thing happened. Narcissa's shoulders shook, and she suddenly seemed all that more frail. Norah and David eyed each other with a little shock. They quietly retreated away from the scene, leaving Hermione to deal with Narcissa alone.

"My son," Narcissa said. Her voice was wavering, and she was focused on keeping her face turned away. "He's all I've got."

"I know," Hermione said heavily. She moved from her position by the kitchen counter and stepped closer to Narcissa. "He means the world to me, too. I promise you I'll bring him back."

"You better…he's all I've got."

* * *

Draco opened his eyes blearily. He had a pounding headache and his mouth was cracked and dry. He felt as though he was waking up to the world's worse hangover.

He tried to call out for some water but all that came out from his mouth was a choking grunt that turned into a hacking cough. Each cough made his head pound a little harder.

The rattling sound of metal against stone made Draco tilt his head up slightly. The swimming image of Ronald Weasley came into focus. He had a maniacal grin upon his face. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long breath.

It was coming back to him piece by piece. This son of a bitch had him carted off to Azkaban for no apparent purpose.

"Awake, I see," Weasley said, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Great observational skills Weasley," Draco spat, glaring at him from his shackled position. Carrot top was never a great thinker anyway – everyone knew he got by on Hermione's brains and Potter's bravery.

"Think you're funny, Malfoy?" Weasley sneered. "_Crucio_."

Draco twitched slightly. His mind was focused on throwing off the curse completely and it seemed as though he was successful. He chuckled ruefully. "You obviously haven't had a crash course with my Aunt Bella…"

"Of course not," Weasley snapped. "She's dead. Like your father."

Draco shifted the best his shackles would allow him to. He wanted nothing more than to bash Weasley to pulp.

"You see," Weasley was saying now, "when I found out and and my ex-wife were fucking I thought to myself – why in the hell would anyone want to fuck such an uptight prissy like her? She never lets a man have his balls. She wants everything done her way – and I _know_ that's not your nature."

Weasley was pacing around the small cell. Draco refused to look at him to give him satisfaction. He could go stick it to his mum for all he cared. He grinned a little at the thought of Weasley and plump Mrs. Weasley.

"So I figure, that you must be doing this for a reason – your father was a bastard. You must have inherited some of his infamous ways…" Weasley was trying hard to catch his eye. He was egging him on. "And then it hit me! You're shacking up with Hermione so that you could get your name cleared. Bury your fucked up past. Get recognition. Ride off Hermione's success."

Draco sighed loudly. He wondered what Hermione was doing at this very moment. Did Weasley really think a few words could break him? For the love of Merlin, he shared a household with Voldemort!

"Fuck you, Weasley," Draco said, tiredly. "You had your little fun. This will make my name go down in the history for being the most horrible wizard after Voldemort, so why don't you quit playing games and let me out of here?"

Weasley moved surprisingly fast. He was eye to eye with Draco. "You think this is a joke?" he whispered. "Toying with Hermione's feelings – "

"_Toying?_" Draco sneered. "Weren't you the one calling her a prissy?"

"Because she _is_ what she is!"

"No she _isn't,_ you dumb fuck of an excuse for a wizard!" Draco shouted angrily, not caring that his throat was about to tear. "She's a fucking brilliant witch, with an amazing heart. She had a good head on her shoulders – she could have been anything she put her mind to! You were just scared of how she outshined you at every fucking thing!"

"Stop. I'm warning you Malfoy –"

"You were afraid," Draco continued loudly, "because you knew you weren't half of what she was even on your good days, Weasley. You knew you're a pathetic excuse for a husband –"

There was loud sound of bone colliding with bone. Draco flicked his tongue out to taste the warm gush on his upper lip. It was as metallic as could be. He tilted his head back to alleviate the nosebleed he was currently sporting.

"You think you scare me? You're screwing her because you can't get any better," Weasley said, standing up. "And until you admit that, I've got my ways to make you."

Draco watched as Weasley rolled his sleeves back. He sighed tiredly. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Hermione woke up to gentle prodding on her cheek. She opened one eye and then the next to find her chubby girl looking at her curiously. Smiling at the one last thing that made her happy, Hermione scooped Rose into her arms, showering her face with kisses.

"How's mummy's favourite little bug?" Hermione cooed, rubbing her nose against Rose's. Her curls were a little tamer today, and Hermione made a mental note to thank her mother for keeping Rose's hair in tight braids that made it more manageable.

Rose giggled happily, unaware of the plight Hermione was going through. Hermione half wished she had Rose's innocence and content nature. Life would be so much easier if she was three-year-old.

Across her, Narcissa roused from her slumber. She too, had fallen asleep on Hermione's couch after trying to read through the Wizarding Law books. They had spent most of the night in silence, waiting for Blaise's arrival. Hermione occupied herself with scanning her books and after a while, Narcissa seemed to pick up the idea.

As Hermione interacted with Rose, she felt odd to have an onlooker. She peered over at Narcissa. "Did you – er- sleep well?" she asked, immediately regretting her question. Of course the woman wasn't sleeping well! Her son had been dragged off to Azkaban, she was the last to know about it and had zero control over it.

To her surprise, a small smile graced Narcissa's features. "I do not believe for a minute that you fully expect me to take that question seriously, Hermione?"

Hermione let out a small laugh as Rose snuggled against her. She absently stroked to top of Rose's head and admitted, "No, I don't." Placing a kiss on Rose's temple, Hermione voiced the one question that was in her head. "I'm worried, Narcissa. Zabini should be here with _some_ news? Harry hasn't showed up either…"

The smile that temporarily lit up Narcissa's face dropped. She sighed. "I am worried as well. But Blaise told me to stay put until he found a solution. And I trust Blaise."

There was a tapping sound at the window and Hermione saw the Post Owl waiting for her to let it in. Balancing Rose on her hip, she quickly opened the window and let the owl in.

"Here," Narcissa said, tipping a few Knuts into the owl's pouch as hermione collected the newspaper.

She hadn't bothered thanking Narcissa. Even through the rolled up paper she could distinctly make out a picture of Draco and herself taking up most of the front page. She was shaking with rage. They had better not blow this out of proportion now. She unfurled the paper and began to read the headlines.

_Draco Malfoy: Back in Azkaban_

_Earlier yesterday evening, Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, was brought back into Azkaban under the suspicion of reliving the Dark Arts practices. An avid Voldemort supporter, Ministry insiders believe that Malfoy was trying to band together ex Death Eaters and perhaps create a new Dark Age._

_Mr Ronald Weasley, who as at the scene of the crime itself, had a few words to offer, "Well, I couldn't thank Hermione Granger more for this opportunity. We have had this planned for months – she would befriend Malfoy in order to gain trust and entrance into his Death Eater gang. This capture would not have been possible without her role as a double agent."_

_While Mr. Weasley may have been successful in detailing his plan of Mr. Malfoy's capture, he had little to express about his recent charges of child abuse._

_For more on Mr. Malfoy's work as a Death Eater : Pages 1- 15_

Hermione threw the paper so vehemently away from herself that it hit the couch and fell back onto the floor. Narcissa was watching her steadily.

"Utter rubbish!" Hermione said, not caring that her voice was rising unsteadily. "What they had on Draco was nothing but false suspicion and they did a re-run on how he was coerced into being a Death Eater! That's bloody bollocks!"

"Do not curse in front of the child, Hermione," Narcissa said, her eyes flickering over to Rose who was studying her mother intently.

"Oh Gods," Hermione groaned, sinking into the couch. She wanted nothing more than to tear her own hair out.

Before she could contemplate doing anything even slightly more outrageous, two tall figures tumbled out from her fireplace, arguing in voices that were loud enough to wake the dead.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND, POTTER?"

"I HANDLED IT THE BEST I COULD – WHICH IS MORE THAN I COULD SAY FOR _YOU_, ZAIBINI!"

"I wanted to get him _out_, not on bail but _out_!"

"And I'm telling you, you cant! Which part of your daft senses doesn't comprehend what I'm trying to say?"

"What's going on?" Hermione interrupted, letting her arms loose as Rose barreled over to Harry for a hug hello. "Why the hell are the both of you arguing as though you've found a solution to bring Merlin back?"

"Don't joke about that," Blaise said tersely. He was already by Narcissa's side, allowing her to thread an arm through his.

"Zabini here isn't happy that I've got Draco out on bail."

"I'm telling you, Potter, she's not going to like it –"

"Please let Harry speak," Hermione said, frowning at Blaise. Narcissa said nothing but watched at the three of them engaged in a conversation.

Harry was balancing Rose on the kitchen counter as he shoved his glasses further up his nose. "Look, Hermione, they weren't keen on letting Draco go. And as much as Zabini protests, we both know that he hasn't found a single argument to get Draco out of Azkaban. I figured if Draco was out on bail, at least you could be with him until his trial started."

"He's going to have a _trial_ for something he completely did _not_ engage it?" Hermione asked, stamping her foot in anger. They were un-fucking-believable, really. The Ministry deserved to be shut down.

"It seems so," Blaise confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So what you're saying is Draco can come home?" Narcissa asked, her voice level. Hermione wondered why it was so important to the old witch to conceal her true happiness.

"Well, yes, but only under certain conditions," Harry replied, allowing Rose to play with his glasses. "And – er- Zabini thinks you might not be too – er - fond of it."

"Oh just spit it out, Harry," Hermione said anxiously, eager to see Draco. She just had to know what was going on. Being away from him like that was killing her.

"Umbridge would accept no less than Draco's house as bail," Harry said, sighing. "I tried everything. Offering her our gold combined, offering her my service in her department – literally _everything_ but her conditions were Draco's house or no bail at all. I'm really sorry, Hermione."

"So you agreed to give up our house," Narcissa said. Hermione supposed she was trying to ask a question, only that it came out as a statement instead.

"Look, I did what I did without wasting any more time," Harry replied. "I know it's cost you alot but I'm not going to apologize because I know that you and Hermione would rather have Draco back with you than rot in that cell for three months."

"I see," Narcissa said, lowering her gaze.

There was silence in the room, and except for Blaise's triumphant snorts of laughter, Hermione could feel her mind working like gears. It was spinning so fast. If Draco didn't have a home, it would mean that he would have to reside here, which would mean that Narcissa would be here too.

She had to make a decision.

"So Draco and Narcissa mvoes in with me," Hermione announced crisply. From the corner of her eye, she could see Blaise's smile faltering. "That's settled. When can we actually _see_ Draco, Harry?"

"I don't think you should allow your daughter to see Draco just yet," Blaise interrupted, his tone serious.

"What?" Hermione argued, frowning. "I'll let her see whomever I damn –"

"Hermione, I have to agree with Zabini on that," Harry interrupted. He could see disbelief written on his best friend's face, but he wasn't worried. Hermione was always logical above everything else. "Really, Draco looks…well…let's just say he's had better days even when he was serving Voldemort."

Narcissa emitted something that was caught between a sob and a shriek and Blaise rubbed her forearm gently, trying to soothe her. Hermione on the other hand, felt her head go dizzy with panic. Walking over to the nearest paper bin, she bent over and emptied her stomach into it.

"Hey," Harry was by her side. He was rubbing soothing circles on her back while Blaise and Narcissa moved further away from them. "It's nothing that can't be healed, I promise you. Why don't you let your parents have Rose for night until you and Narcissa sort things out with Draco? I'll arrange to have their things be brought over and all."

Hermione didn't answer him. All she could think about was how she had inflicted all of this onto Draco.

"Granger," Zabini called from behind her. Hermione dragged her hand across her sweaty upper lip. "It's _not_ your fault."

* * *

Two and a half hours of arrangements and directives found Hermione pacing her tiny apartment nervously. She had packed up adequate clothes for Rose to use for tonight under her parent's care. She ignored the dull thud in her heart as she put Rose's things away. She felt as though she had hardly seen her daughter in the last twenty-four hours.

She had transformed the spare bedroom into something that he hoped suited Narcissa and since Draco's home was used instead of money for bail, things from his home have been appearing by the boxes in Hermione's hall. She was surprised that one of the boxes had yet to topple on her and kill her off completely.

Hermione could hear Narcissa arranging things and dragging furniture in her bedroom using her wand. She knew Narcissa was just as nervous as she was. Narcissa had not mentioned a word about living together with Hermione and had chosen to simply go with the flow than truly acknowledge what was happening. Hermione supposed once Draco was home they would be able to discuss things a little more.

Hermione came to a halt, and decided to wait by the fireplace and cease all pacing. She almost had a heart attack when she realized that Narcissa had joined her in staring intently at the fireplace.

"Blaise was – _is_ – right. I know you wouldn't have wanted this for Draco," Narcissa said, turning her head to meet Hermione's eye.

"Thank you," Hermione said, feeling a fraction surprised, "but a million people could tell me that but I still feel responsible for it somehow, because it is my responsibility to manage Ron."

"You two aren't man and wife anymore," Narcissa said, staring straight into the fire. "And if you've chosen to be with Draco, perhaps it's apt if you try to break the need to feel responsible for Weasley."

Hermione opened her mouth, unsure of exactly what to reply Narcissa, but before she could formulate any words, there was a loud banging on her front door. "What in the blazes –"

"I thought you said Potter arranged for wards."

"Hermione, it's us, open up!"

"That's Harry," Hermione confirmed, rushing past Narcissa to open the door.

The moment she pulled it open, all sound left her body. She was speechless at the sight before her.

"Granger, if you're not going to be of any use, shove off!" Blasie snarled, as he hoisted Draco's arm more securely on his shoulder.

"Don't fucking talk to her like that, Zabini." Draco's voice was barely a whisper. His face was so severely bruised and battered that Hermione had a hard time finding even an inch of his usual pale skin. There was blood caked along his nostrils and his upper lips, and one of his eyes had been reduced to a slit.

"Draco, mate," Zabini said, exhaling, "it's your smart mouth that got you in this shape."

Hermione stepped aside to let them in. She locked eyes with Harry who looked just as upset as she confirmed her suspicions. Gently lowering Draco onto the couch, Harry turned to face Hermione while Blaise got a drink of water. Narcissa wasted to time rushing to the kitchen, retrieving ice and frozen meat packs from the freezer.

"_Ron_?" Hermione breathed, as she inched closer to Harry.

"Ron," Harry said, nodding sadly. "There was no one else inside…the guards attested to that…we couldn't bring him by Floo, it would have been too painful, and Side-Along Apparation…I dunno, it looked too risky. We came the Muggle way, with one of the Ministry's cars."

"Had to Disllusion Draco too. The press was hanging around like a pack of wolves," Blaise said irritatedly as he yanked his tie loose.

"This is ridiculous!" Narcissa said, coming back from the kitchen. "You could have brought him to St. Mungo's! We definitely have neither the potions nor the expertise to treat him!"

"Hermione's a certified Healer," Harry quipped. "Besides, we tried registering him at St. Mungo's but…" Harry trailed off, and he was beginning to regret it from the scornful look Narcissa was shooting him.

"But those arseholes are believing the Prophet and refuse to have anything to do with Draco," Blaise finished rather unceremoniously. "We discussed it, and you're our best bet, Granger. Better healed slowly than poisoned to death by a bunch of healers who hate you."

"Biased bunch of fools!" Narcissa sneered, throwing down the frozen meat packs with a little too much force. It ricocheted off the table and onto the carpet. "If Granger here couldn't heal him, they would have left him to die?"

There was an uncomfortable silence around the room as Hermione shakily pulled out her wand. Muttering a charm under her breath, she carefully siphoned off the dried blood on Draco's face. Even with his face somewhat clear, it was still badly bruised.

Draco opened his good eye to look at Hermione. He knew she was blaming herself beyond help. "It's not your fault, Granger," his voice was raspy. He could feel his ribcage hurting painfully each time he spoke. Fucking bastard spent the better half of the night stomping on him.

"Hush," Hermione said, taking up one of the warm towels Narcissa had passed to her and gently pressing it on one of Draco's nasty bruises. He winced and groaned so loudly that Harry and Blaise jumped in surprise.

"How could any human being do this?" Narcissa whispered, shaking her head with disbelief. Even Voldemort was not fond of torture. He _killed_. The only other person who seemed to gain any form of pleasure from seeing others suffer was Bellatrix, and the wizarding world was glad that she was long gone.

"I've had my dues coming for a long time, Mother," Draco replied, half smiling at Narcissa. "I'm just glad to be out of that hell hole. The Dementors…" He shivered at the recollection of those slimy creatures waiting just beyond his cell.

"Hermione," Harry placed his hand gently on her shoulder, "Zabini and I have to head back to the Ministry. We've still got loads of paperwork to do for Draco and we should do it at the soonest."

Hermione made to stand and hug Harry goodbye, but Draco's insistent grip on her wrist made her stay in her position. "Thanks, Harry, for everything. I just can't thank you enough."

"You're nothing less than a sister to me, 'Mione. Of course I'd do whatever I could to help you," Harry said, pushing his fringe out of his face. He leaned down and pecked Hermione's cheek goodbye. "I'll send Ginny along when things are more stable. And I'll keep your parents updated too, so don't worry too much."

"Thank you, really," Hermione repeated, feeling absolutely sure that a simple thanks was not enough to convey how much she appreciated Harry's help. "Send my love to Ginny and James."

"Will do."

Blaise was saying goodbye to Narcissa, and he tipped his head in Hermione's direction. "Clean him up well, Granger."

"Blaise," Hermione supposed using his first name caused Blaise to soften his expression towards her a little. "Thank you as well. For everything."

Blaise smiled at her. "Not a problem."

As the two of them spun faster and faster in the fireplace, Hermione directed her attention back to Draco, who seemed to be passed out from exhaustion. She glanced at Narcissa who was studying Draco sadly. Pointing her wand at Draco's nose, Hermione began to mutter incantations, gripping Draco's hand a little tighter as the bones in his nose mended itself.

"It looks like it's going to be a long road to recovery," Narcissa said, her eyes finally leaving Draco's face to look at Hermione's various actions of healing.

"But he'll get there," Hermione replied, not really sure who she was trying to convince. "I'll make sure he does."

"He's lucky to have you, Hermione."

"On most days I feel as though it's the other way, really."


	11. Chapter 11

**I had fun - took time with this chappie. let me know what you think, pretty please!**

**nothing belongs to me! it all belongs to the wonderful j.k rowling!**

* * *

Morning could not have come sooner, Hermione thought. Her eyes were already wide open, and from the lack of sleep she'd managed to catch, she could feel an uneasy sensation settling in the pit of her stomach. She shifted carefully, mindfully aware not to wake Draco beside her. He was heavily Draughted but that did not mean he didn't stir every time she moved.

Slipping her legs into her slippers, Hermione walked the short distance to the conjoined bathroom. She tapped a few of the faucets with her wand lying by the sink and the water started running. Steam was starting to pour out and Hermione smiled a little. She was sore all over and a hot bubbly bath looked about too good right now.

She glanced at her wristwatch that was fastened onto the towel rack beside her. It was a quarter past five, which gave her enough time to shower and prepare breakfast as well as Draco's potions for the day before visiting with Kingsley.

After tapping the faucets to turn off, Hermione cast a warming spell on the water to keep the water at its current temperature. Shedding her clothes, she slipped in and almost didn't notice how loud the sigh that escaped her lips was.

There was a fluffy towel propping the base of her neck. Her curls were pulled up neatly and secured by a single bobby pin – a handy trick thanks to Ginny – and that meant she had the leisure to soak for a good half hour.

As much as she tried, she couldn't shut out her mind that was racing a mile a minute. Her living condition was – she couldn't find any other word to _describe_ it even. She was silently wondering if this was the price to pay for trying to be always prepared. How was it that people who _never_ planned their lives had no curve balls thrown their way? Whereas she, the queen of preparedness, had every bad thing chasing her at the most unimaginable at times.

Narcissa isn't that bad, she reasoned. She kept mostly to herself - though Hermione suspected this might have been for no other reason than the fact that she just didn't _know_ how to react around Hermione – and she was a more than polite guest.

Hermione was genuinely surprised that Narcissa actually enjoyed spending time with Rose. It was a little shocker, when Hermione walked in on them playing tea party on Narcissa's first day here. It was Rose's apparent comfort around Narcissa that pushed Hermione into setting up a meeting with Kingsley today.

Draco was healing well, albeit a little slowly. The only thing left to mend were his ribs and his fractured shin. Hermione felt pressured to make him heal as soon as possible, but Harry kept reminding her that 3 days with significant healing was more than surpassing any other Healer's abilities.

Hermione cracked an eye open. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that thirty-five minutes had passed. She pulled herself out of her tub, flicking her finger as she did to magically drain the tub.

She could hear the distinct _tap-tap-tap_ out in the hall, which meant that the Daily Prophet had arrived. Slipping into a soft pencil skirt and sky blue blouse, Hermione grimaced at the thought of the contents of the _Prophet_. Ron was still labeled as the man who was 'trying to do right' whereas she was the object of pity – making all the wrong choices in her life. It was the worst for Draco however – since his life was on public display from day to day.

Rubbing on a little concealer to cover up her horrendous eyebags, Hermione deemed herself looking appropriate enough for a day at the Ministry later. She stepped out of her bedroom, carefully shutting it behind her.

"Good morning."

"Good god!" Hermione all but shrieked, clutching her chest. Narcissa resembled noting less than a ghost. Her face was paler in the mornings – something Hermione had yet to get used to.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "I thought you would have been used to my presence by now." She daintily bought the cup of coffee she was holding to her lips and took a sip. "It has been at least half a week."

"Not in the mornings," Hermione muttered, still clasping her chest. "I mean – I usually see you much later. Nobody is up with me around this time." She began walking towards the kitchen, pausing along the way to peer into Rosie's room. Rosie slept much as though she had been chasing butterflies in her dreams – her legs and arms sprawled in all directions. "She's finally sleeping through the night," she remarked, heaving a sigh of relief. "I thought we'd never get back to that."

"Children are resilient," Narcissa replied, nodding. "We give them less credit than they deserve."

Hermione couldn't help but agree with this statement. Rosie had a hard time adjusting to the fact that she couldn't hug Draco hello, or even sit next to him – she was too fidgety and Draco's bones needed to be set – and it was even worse on the second day she saw his face with all the bruises because she wouldn't stop crying.

"I didn't realize your daughter was _that_ attached to my son," Narcissa had commented when she noticed the fit of tantrums Rosie was throwing just because Hermione had locked her out of the master bedroom yet again.

"She _adores_ Draco," Hermione had replied somewhat coldly. She was tired of trying to explain how Draco was actually a likable person. That she had fallen in love with him. Anyone else, she would have rolled her eyes or set them in place without much distaste, but for Narcissa to make such a statement as though her son was something so unlikable, it infuriated her.

"Don't misunderstand me," Narcissa said slowly, crouching down to comfort the crying child. "I meant – I'm surprised because she knew him for such a short amount of time."

"Right," Hermione replied, not entirely convinced, but more than willing to avoid another skirmish conversation with Narcissa.

"So how long will you be out?" Narcissa asked now, watching as Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee. "I saw your list of things on the fridge…consider lunch and dinner taken care of. And I'd be more than happy to help keep watch on brewing Draco's potions."

Hermione nodded gratefully as she opened the kitchen window to let the impatient owl in. "That would be _wonderful_, actually. Draco's final potion needs just a little bit of tweaking – but you needn't worry about it, I would be around here for that."

"So just lunch, dinner and watching Rose?" Narcissa confirmed, talking more to Hermione's back as she pulled out butter and jam from the fridge.

"Nothing too fancy," Hermione added hastily. "Just a simple meal would do – there's no need to tire yourself out, Narcissa. I appreciate all you're doing today."

Narcissa studied the woman before her. It still stumped her sometimes, how _giving _she could be. She gave almost everything of herself and yet, she didn't mind giving just a little bit more. It was astonishing, really, where she got all that patience and grace. "You are bending over backwards to care for my son and I," Narcissa replied quietly. "It's the least I can do – and it's nothing I wouldn't enjoy. Your daughter happens to be lovely company."

Hermione smiled as she buttered her toast. "Thank you," she said, not quite sure what else to say to the elderly witch in front of her. She knew it must have taken a lot for Narcissa to have said that out loud, and she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it.

The two women completed breakfast silently, both lost in their own thoughts, but quite grateful to have put quite a significant amount of water under the bridge.

* * *

"Hermione," Kingsley greeted warmly. "I've been wondering when I would see you."

"Well, now the wondering stops," Hermione replied somewhat tersely as she sat in the chair before the Minister for Magic. She twisted her fingers in that were in her lap – anxious to get some answers out of him.

"I suppose this isn't a casual visit?" Kingsley said, a rumbling sigh escaping his lips. "It would be foolish to hope so." His dark eyes grew serious and Hermione could see him preparing himself for her slew of questions.

"What in the name of hell is going on, Minister?" Hermione asked, her voice clear and steady. "I have completely lost faith in the Wizarding court of law. Ronald Weasley wasn't given a fair trial, I don't know how in the seven levels of hell he and Umbridge received a warranted arrest for Draco, how is it that Draco left Azkaban looking as though he was clinging to an inch of his life –"

"Hermione," Kingsley interrupted gently, afraid that the woman before him might go as blue as her blouse. "Breathe."

"Minister, with all do respect, please don't interrupt me," Hermione said, raising a single finger, not to the surprise of Kingsley. Hermione Granger was a force to be reckoned with. Crossing her would just seem foolish at this point. "I have given up so much for this blasted community and all I get in return are a bunch of lies, gossip and horrible – utterly _horrible_ things thrown my way by this very community."

Hermione paused, finally taking that breath. "And why is Ron and Umbridge still in employment? Why did you co-sign the arrest warrant? You of all people know –"

"Hermione," Kingsley said, deciding it was an appropriate enough time to cut through even though it bore a warning sign when her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I did _not_ authorize that arrest warrant. With enough consolidated votes, Umbridge and Ron rallied enough Aurors who were willing sign and petition for Draco Malfoy to be arrested on whatever grounds he was accused."

"Half of them do not even know of him!"

"But they know of his father," Kingsley said quietly.

Hermione's eyes bulged slightly. "You're telling me this is _entirely_ due to his father's mistakes?" she spluttered angrily. "Just how fair is that? I don't think this was the type of community I risked my life for, Minister! I thought there was going to be change!"

"I am working on it, Hermione," Kingsley answered patiently. "Am I happy that Umbridge and Ron went behind my back? Of course not. Did I do anything to prevent it? It was _I_ who Confunded Umbridge into agreeing to letting Draco out on bail. Obviously, there was a slight glitch on his house but I had to make it look as real as possible so people wouldn't think I was behind it."

"I don't understand why people _want_ Draco to be arrested!" Hermione pushed, "He's kept his nose out of trouble, he was clean and he's been paying his dues – "

"Hermione, think about it," Kingsley urged, not believing for a second that the bright witch before him didn't get why the wizarding community was behaving as such.

Hermione sighed, leaning back into her chair. She suspected as much but she didn't want to admit it aloud really. "They unite by hating. By excluding."

"Exactly."

"Ron's a war hero, I get it – but so am I…and you, and Harry…why are they supporting Ron for?"

"Because he's bothered to show that he's doing his job, keeping people from harm by arresting any potential threats."

"He's making Draco a scapegoat," Hermione retorted, none too pleased. "And it was what we _hated_ about Fudge and Scrimgeour back in the days."

"They met their sticky end."

"I don't want to _die_ per se,' Hermione said, in a clipped voice, "but I do want to see him _justly_ punished. This has gone on for too long, Minister. Can't you just fire him?"

"Therein lies the problem," Kingsley said, leaning on his elbows. "Ron is a war-hero. Firing him without proper cause for dismissal might make a ruckus and have me overthrown by the people. And I suspect that the next Minister in line wont be too keen on keeping the balance between the prejudiced folks and the not. We survived a war from that. I have no intention of letting it get that way."

"And Umbridge?"

"She made Fudge sign her a lifetime employment at the Ministry when he was in power," Kingsley said sadly. "I thought designating her to courtroom files would keep her away from doing any real danger…but it seems that I was mistaken."

"You weren't," Hermione said bitterly, "it was Ron who appointed her as his lawyer, remember?"

"I really wonder what is going on in his mind," Kingsley said, disappointed. "I would be lying if I said Arthur wasn't ashamed of him. _Thoroughly _ashamed – and that's saying something…when was the last time you saw a Weasley being ashamed of their own?"

"Well, he deserves it, doesn't he?" Hermione remarked, not feeling sorry for Ron the slightest. He mind wandered over to another pressing issue. "Is Draco's trial – is it really going to happen? Seeing as it's a baseless accusation after all?"

"That, I'm afraid, we can't modify, Hermione," Kingsley said gravely. "Unless we find something to discredit both Umbridge and Ron –"

"Fat chance."

"-It is only then that their accusation can be proved to be false and the Aurors will have no further cause to investigate Draco Malfoy."

"How _very_ convenient."

"How is Draco?" Kingsley asked, feeling that it was safe enough to veer slightly off topic. "Harry tells me that you've done some excellent healing."

"He's doing much better, thank Merlin," Hermione answered, crossing her legs then uncrossing her legs. "I still think it's bloody bollocks that St. Mungo's won't admit him, by the way."

"As do I,' Kingsley replied. "One would think that the people would learn something from the War."

"It starts at Hogwarts," Hermione said shortly. She was feeling less and less chatty now that she knew there was basically nothing she could _actually_ do. "The people our age are far to old and set in their ways to change. You should look at shaping the future generation. Teach them what it means to be unbiased."

"I was hoping you could be in charge of that," Kingsley offered, raising his eyebrows.

"With everything going on right now –"

"Not right away, Hermione," Kingsley said, waving his had dismissively. "When things have settled down, when this fiasco is over…Umbridge isn't the only one who has job security here, you know." He finished with a wink, earning him a real smile from Hermione.

"We'll see," Hermione said, a little unenthusiastically. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she sounded that unwilling when it came to work and reforms but her heart and soul was just elsewhere today.

* * *

Draco opened his eyes and blinked. Once, twice, then again. He opened his mouth to clear his cracked throat, but he let out a heckled cough instead. It made a searing pain shoot through his ribs and he hissed in discomfort.

"Draco?"

His mother peeked in, and he frowned confusedly – why was she at Hermione's flat? His memory came back to him in flashes. He vaguely recalled the beatings, Hermione's brief explanation on their current living situation and he groaned inwardly. He was going to kill that fucking carrot-top when he was out of here.

Hermione's side of the bed creaked unceremoniously as his mother settled beside him. "This is the first you've been up since you started taking your potions, Draco," Narcissa said carefully. Her voice was laced with mixed feelings that Draco didn't miss.

"I feel like shite," he commented dryly, as he pushed away his mother's hands that were holding a cup of water with a straw in it.

"You look it too," Narcissa replied curtly. "You need to drink this, Draco. Hermione wouldn't be too pleased it you didn't."

"Since when do you care?" Draco asked snidely, watching his mother out of the corner of his eyes. He knew he was being an intolerable bastard at the moment, but his ribs were killing him and it was no walk in the park having to down about thirty different potions a day. His mother remained silent and he prompted, "Well?"

"Don't be difficult," Narcissa chided, not too unkindly. She heaved a sigh. "She's got the heart of a saint. She cares for you, for me…and she makes sure her ltitle one is properly tended to. It's crazy how she keeps it together, especially when she doesn't _have_ to. It's difficult not to like her. Anybody would."

"Anybody including yourself?" Draco teased, knowing what his mother really meant.

"If it's that important to you," Narcissa said, now irritated, "then _yes_ Draco. I think – I think it's foolish to let go of her especially when you both seem to be in love and she's really way too good for you."

Draco closed it eyes, satisfied. Well, that was the best she could do he supposed. He felt his mother brush his hair back from his forehead and he opened his eyes and wondered aloud where Hermione went.

"She went to speak to Kingsley," Narcissa replied now. She glanced at her wristwatch, frowning. "She should have been back a half hour ago, really." Noticing the worry lines forming on her son's face, she quickly added, "There's nothing to worry about. She wasn't running errands. Just Flooed to the Ministry and she'll Floo back."

"Dwaco?" The pitter-patter of footsteps was finally heard over the adult voices.

"Rose!" Draco said, his face breaking out into a full grin. "Come up here, bug!"

Rose's face lit up as though Draco had offered her a bowl of chocolate ice-cream with extra sprinkles. "Cuddles?" she asked, smiling widely.

"Yeah," Draco replied, laughing at her excitement. "I've missed you."

Rose wasted no time crawling in between Narcissa and Draco, burrowing between where his shoulder and chest met on his good side. She frowned slightly at the yellowing bruises on Draco's chest. "Ouchie?" she asked, her big blue eyes boring in Draco.

"You could say that, yes," Draco said, following her line of vision as Narcissa looked on curiously, not stopping this little interaction simply to see where it would end up.

Rose puckered her little lips and kissed the healing bruise on Draco's chest. "All better!" she said, as she settled back into her comfortable spot. Draco chuckled weakly and pressed a kiss to the top of her red mop. She might be the only one with flaming hair that he didn't hate.

Draco was still raking his fingers through Rose's hair when his mother's question broke through his thoughts. "What – what do you think of Rose? Not as a person, because she's just ta child, I meant what's her relationship to you?"

Draco mulled over his mother's question, not really sure how to respond to it. He cleared his throat a few times, and sniffed Rose's addictive toddler scent before attempting to answer his mother. "To be honest, Mother, I have no idea." He looked at his mother who had her eyebrows so far up it was almost lost in her hairline. "I kind of assumed she came with the package, you know? I love Hermione and I want to make her happy – so by extension, it's always been on my mind to keep Rose happy and safe as well."

"Like her guardian?"

"I don't-" Draco exhaled heavily, "I don't think like a guardian, because I haven't really developed a thirst to suddenly be vested in her disciplinary areas or anything, but above everything else, I wake up each morning thinking of Hermione, you and Rose and thinking of how I need to keep each of you safe and happy."

"Then she's family, Draco,' Narcissa said, smiling slightly. Her heart was constricting painfully – not from sadness though, from pure unadulterated joy. For a long while, Narcissa thought her son would never find that one person that reached his heart. Astoria, Daphne, Pansy…they came and went, but they never left the effect every parent wanted for their child – for him to be genuinely happy.

"I haven't thought about it that way until you asked," he admitted. "It just never crossed my mind. Everything with Hermione is new and yet it feels as if it's been happening for ages – I dunno."

"Hello," a voice said by the doorway. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Not in the least," Narcissa said, slowly extracting Rose from Draco. The little girl had fallen asleep snuggled close to Draco. Narcissa supposed that was the effect of a hearty lunch and a good cuddle. "I was just going to put Rose down."

"The French onion soup smells amazing, Narcissa," Hermione said, her voice so full of sincerity that Narcissa couldn't help but smile a true smile that lit up her face. "I can't wait to tuck into that. And thank you again, by the way – for watching Rose…I hope she wasn't too difficult?"

"She's really easy to please," Narcissa replied, casting a Feather Charm on the toddler. Her weak bones were getting to old to be carrying rose's full weight. "She was _much_ happier after seeing Draco though."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement, smiling when Narcissa mentioned that part about Draco. She was a little sorry she'd missed seeing how Rose reacted to seeing Draco after so long. She shrugged out of her coat and handbag as Narcissa silently left her room.

"Are you going to pretend to do organize when I know you're just dying to kill me with a hug, Granger?" Draco teased, as he looked over at his slightly frazzled girlfriend.

He wasn't wrong, however. Hermione chucked her coat unceremoniously aside and practically ran over to the bed, enveloping him in the tightest possible he could handle. "I'm so _glad_ you're awake, Draco," Hermione mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the part of his faces that didn't look to be so sore. "Merlin knows I've been worried sick…and you looked so bad…I'm just – I'm just –"

"Hey, hey, shhh…" Draco whispered gently into her ear as he shifted to accommodate her. "I'm okay, see?"

"You absolutely _not_."

"Well, I'll get there,' Draco replied confidently. "You've been taking care of me, I'm not worried, Granger."

"I missed you," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly. Three torturous days, simply waiting for Draco to be well enough to be awake for more than a few seconds – and finally the wait for over. Nothing Harry, Ginny or her parents said seemed reassuring enough. But right now, hearing all the words from Draco's mouth…she just didn't know how much she would miss him until confronted with the possibility of losing him altogether. "I'm just so happy youre awake," she repeated.

"I know," Draco said softly, swiping his thumb across her cheek to catch the teardrop that was swiftly making its way down her cheek.

"Promise me you wont ever leave me," Hermione said, her brown eyes pleading.

"Granger, you know I didn't –"

"_Promise_ _me,_ Draco."

"I promise you, Hermione Jean Granger, that I won't _ever_ leave your side."

"Good," Hermione said, laughing softly as she leaned down to envelope Draco's lips in a soft, sweet kiss. She traced her fingertips along his features just so, as though she was trying to commit to memory every single detail about him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, as they broke apart.

There was the apology. "Promise me something, Granger," Draco said instead, studying Hermione's pretty face that was poised just inches above his. She was still peppering kisses everywhere and anywhere on his face.

"What is it, Draco?"

"Swear on me that you'll _never_ blame yourself or apologize for this when it's clearly Weasel's fault."

"Draco – "

"Swear on it, Granger."

It was a long drawn out silence, which ended with hormone resting her forehead against Draco as a few more tears leaked from her eyes. Draco waited patiently, knowing there was no point in rushing her.

Pressing the softest kiss against his cheek, Hermione pulled back before hesitantly opening her mouth, "I promise."

"Thank you," Draco replied. "Now how did it go down with Kingsley?"

"Could we – could we talk about that later?" Hermione asked, "I just want to lie here with you." She wasn't avoiding his questions, she really was overwhelmed wit hthe need to stay as close and connected to him as possible. And right now, being tangled in his arms felt nothing less than heavenly.

"Of course," Draco replied, he certainly wasn't in a hurry to hear about how the Ministry didn't have his back again. "We can lie here until you're ready to do whatever you want to do."

* * *

Eight hours and nine minutes later, they were still in bed, with the only difference of Rose sneaking in to snuggle between them. Narcissa had tried to convince Draco to let go of his death grip on Rose but he was adamant. He'd missed her terribly and if she wanted to snuggle up beside him, she should.

Narcissa had thrown up her hand in exasperation, swearing never to bother with Draco since he didn't know how to listen when it came to his own good, but she did eventually return with a tray and two bowls of chicken noodle soup for Draco and Hermione who seemed utterly reluctant to move from their position.

"Here," Hermione said, tipping a smoking goblet onto Draco's lips. "It's going to sting, but it's the last of the nasties."

Draco downed the potion in a single gulp, grimacing as the taste hit the back of his throat. "Fucking _awful_."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his curse, secretly loving that he was almost back to his former self. They had spent the better half of the day sleeping and waking up in between, talking about nothing and everything.

"So you still haven't told me about Kingsley."

Hermione cast a locking charm on her bedroom door before shimmying out of her work clothes. Quickly grabbing a pair of Draco's boxers and his old Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt from the top drawer of her bureau, Hermione changed into her pyjamas at lightning speed.

"It went…_nowhere_," she answered, her voice muffled as she pulled her head through the hole of the t-shirt. "I mean, he explained why people were behind Ron – and it wasn't something we already didn't know, and how he Confunded Umbridge –"

"_What_?"

"He Confunded Umbridge into letting you out on bail," Hermione replied, grabbing a bottle of lotion as she walked back to bed.

"But he couldn't save my house," Draco remarked snidely.

Hermione bumped him with her elbow and frowned. "He was doing the best he could…under the circumstances, that is." She sighed and squirted a dollop of Satsuma lotion onto her knees and claves. She began rubbing it in and massaging the tension out of her muscles. "What do you think of – of your residence here?"

Draco laughed out loud at this question. "You know, Granger," he said, coming down from his laugh, "I _never_ expected to be shacking up with you with less than three months of dating." He received a good smack from Hermione from a rolled up magazine by her nightstand and he protested feebly. "With my mother and your daughter too," he added as an after thought.

"It _is _kind of weird, isn't it?"

"It definitely is," Draco agreed, looking over at her. She looked simply stunning, just in her pyjamas. It was hard to believe that she had to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders because it hardly showed. "But I think – I think I'm eternally grateful that you did what you did – "

"Oh Draco, I couldn't have done it any other way really –"

"You could have us live with Andromeda," Draco replied quietly. "She is my mother's sister."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she shook her head. "And who, pray tell, would take care of your Healing?" she asked incredulously.

"That's what I mean by _thank you_, Granger," Draco quipped, rolling his eyes and smiling good-naturedly. "You didn't just leave us out in the dark – you actually bothered to take care of not only me, but my mother. And for that, I'm entirely grateful to you."

Hermione nodded, her head slightly bowed as she worked furiously at her arms and elbows now. She had never taken well to receiving compliments, and Draco was making her melt inside.

"I should probably tell Harry and my parents you're awake,' Hermione said, finally looking up to meet Draco's eyes. "They were here the entire first day but I had to chase them away. It was too depressing to have people mope about like that. Blaise too," she added as an afterthought.

"Leave it for tomorrow," Draco pleaded, reaching over Rose to intertwine his fingers with hers. "They'll be over in minute's notice and I want nothing more right now than to just be with you girls."

"Alright," Hermione conceded sweetly, as she leaned over to kiss him soundly on the lips. Rose stirred between them, causing Hermione to giggle as they broke apart.

Draco laughed as he slid slowly back down onto his pillow. His back was aching from leaning against the headboard for so long. Shifting Rose so that Hermione the middle instead, Hermione gently snuggled against Draco as she pulled Rose firmly against her chest.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think people will stop punishing me for my past?"

Draco's voice was quiet and measured. Hermione knew it must have been difficult for him to even _think_ of asking that question.

"I think," Hermione began slowly as she shifted to rise halfway up, leaning on her elbows to face Draco, "that you've been doing right ever since you found out how to, and that's what matters most."

"So you're saying no?"

"I'm saying that your past is precisely what it is, and you can't change it. And right now, there is more of your past as a boy, than your life as a man. Your future however, holds the promise of salvation – and _that_ is entirely up to you to decide how it fans out."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Draco whispered, turning his face away from Hermione. His voice was thick and he was blinking rapidly. He didn't want her to see him like this.

"I need you about as much as you need me, Draco,' Hermione said softly, stroking his hair away from his forehead. "I depend on you on so many days that I have lost count…and if anything, these past three days proved to me how much I need you in my life."

It was a few minutes before Draco faced her again. "I want this mess to be over," he said, exhaling loudly. "I want to get back to normalcy with you and Rose…to my job…"

"That makes the two of us," Hermione said, settling back into bed. She watched as Draco yawned, the effects of the potion coming into play. "Go to sleep, Draco," she instructed, "I love you."

"I love you too, Granger," Draco mumbled. "I really do…"

Hermione watched as his breathing eased into a regular rhythm, and she snaked a hand over to his chest while her other was tightly around Rose. She knew she was going to get an awful cramp tomorrow, but she was in such a secure position – sandwiched between the two most important people in her life that she didn't care.

Sleep washed over Hermione, easier than it should have and it cleared her mind of strategizing and plotting how best to beat Ronald at his own game. He features became relaxed as she dozed off, momentarily leaving her worries behind.

Her sleep was temporary however, because it felt like minutes before a figure was shaking her awake none too gently, prodding her out of bed.

"Harry?" Hermione called out, recognizing the glint from his glasses.

"Shhh, Hermione, I'm so sorry but you've _got_ to see this…" His voice was urgent, as though there was not a second to waste.

Without waiting for a confirmation, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and turned on the spot, both of them disappearing into the darkness


	12. Chapter 12

**A little longer - but I hope you enjoy.** **thank you to everyone who added this to their favourite/ alert list...it means so much to me! :) also...thank you to those of you've not failed to review. I read each one of them and I'm just overwhelmed with crazy happiness. so let me know what you think of this chappie?**

**nothing belongs to me, it all thanks to the amazing j.k rowling.**

* * *

Her skin was prickling. It wasn't a good sort of anxious – no, Hermione remembered feeling the _exact_ same way when they camped out in the Forest of Dean. Except that this time, there were no protective wards around her. The only thing that was keeping her from making a sound was Harry's hand clamping over her mouth.

After a few seconds, he released her, feeling that she had gotten the message. They were to keep extremely quiet. Hermione nodded, silently thanking Moody for his reminder of _constant vigilance_ that echoed throughout her head. She slipped her wand from the waistband of the boxers she was wearing. She rarely slept without her wand.

"Muffliato," she muttered. "Dissimulo." She rapped her head hard enough, and then smirked a little as she noticed Harry's eyes widen when she disappeared into the furnishings behind her. Turning her wand onto Harry, she performed the Disillusionment Charm on him, watching as he too, became the human form of a chameleon.

"Brilliant, Hermione," Harry grinned, as she added a Silencing Spell around them for good measure. "I suppose now we can talk?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, still consciously keeping her voice down. She looked around the old rickety landing they were perched on. "Where are we Harry? Draco's going to go _insane_ when he wakes up and finds me missing. What was so important that you couldn't wait till – "

"You'll want to see this for yourself, Hermione," Harry grimaced. "Ginny would have my head on a platter if she knew I brought you along, but I think you might need to see this before you can even contemplate forgiving Ron."

Hermione felt her jaw slacken a little as she absorbed Harry's words. What in the bejesus was going on? Her brows were furrowed as she contemplated their surroundings. It felt like déjà vu, really. She simply _knew_ she had been here.

"We're at Grimmauld Place," Harry said, beckoning to her with his hand. Hermione followed his lead as he climbed up the next landing, pausing at each step to see if they had made too much noise. "I've been keeping an eye on Ron –"

"Oh goodness, Harry, you've been spying on him?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"Look, Hermione, now's not the time to be angry –"

"Angry? I'm bloody thrilled you decided to watch Ron. Why didn't you let me in on it, Harry? You know I would have done well with planning the entire operation…" Hermione felt her insides squirm as they passed a room marked _R.A.B_. This setting was reminding her too much of when she was seventeen.

"You would have," Harry agreed, "but you had too much on your plate, with Draco and Rose…and I wasn't expecting my idea to be this fruitful in a matter of days…"

"Why are you alone? Where's your team of Aurors, Harry?"

"Er- nobody really wanted to take on this mission, so it's just me," Harry answered hastily. "But I thin knew might find some useful information tonight…which was why I brought you along."

"Right," Hermione replied, her head swirling excitedly with all the possible evidences they could gather against Ron.

Harry paused at the last landing and pressed his ears to the door. He nodded. "We're here."

Hermione almost collided with Harry's back, but she stopped herself just in time. She was thankful that she casted those charms earlier because it allowed them to converse freely and stealth wasn't exactly great to manage in a dark house.

She could hear voices floating out from the beyond the door. Some she recognized, and some she didn't. Using a single finger, Harry pushed the oak door to widen the slim gap by a mere inch.

"Honestly, Dolores –" This voice Hermione had to trouble recognizing. She knew it accompanied flaming red hair and a tall lanky body.

"Shut up, Ronald," the high-pitched voice replied fiercely. "Are you in this or not? _You_ came to me, begging not to be thrown into Azkaban after beating your child, _you_ came to me end Draco Malfoy's days at the ministry –"

"But isn't this taking it a little too far?" Ron mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Hermione could hear the indecisiveness in his voice. Good, she thought, perhaps he had regained a conscience regarding whatever he was doing. "I mean, I was alright getting Malfoy out of the picture, but Hermione –"

Hermione gasped. She couldn't help it. Were they plotting to kill her? Was her _best-friend _for_ seven years_ strategizing to do exactly that?

"Did you hear something?" Dolores peered around, her head at rapt attention and her eyes bulging like orbs.

"I'll go check."

Harry and Hermione stepped a few feet back – which wasn't much anyway. Anymore and they would be backing onto the stairs. A few heavy footsteps later found Ron pulling the door wide open, which also gave Hermione another reason to gasp. She could distinctively see two women who were naked, bound and gagged onto a pole. One of them, she recognized from Hogwarts as Daphne Greengrass. And the other - bore uncanny resemblance but Hermione was not quite sure where she had seen her. They were both fidgeting madly, until Dolores trained her wand on them, and they fell limp again.

"All ok here," Ron commented, sticking his head out of the doorway. Hermione could smell his breath that stank of Firewhiskey.

Beside her, Harry was trembling and for a moment, Hermione thought he was scared, but his vice like grip on her forearm told her that it was something else altogether. _Rage._

"Then come back here," Dolores commanded, as Ron made to shut the door back. "Oh leave it open. It's not like anyone is going to find us up here anyway. It's stuffy."

"As you wish," Ron shrugged, walking back to her. Now that the room was in full view, Hermione could see that there was a cauldron brewing in the corner. "So – um – you mentioned- that this one here would need – "

"Yes, yes," Dolores replied impatiently. "You do get to fornicate with her, Weasley. But don't be so eager! We have a lot to do with this contraception potion – especially if we're going to alter it to accommodate Draco's specimen. It's certainly advanced Dark Magic that only those tomes from the Malfoy Manor would seem to have –"

"I thought you said Draco Malfoy sold the place –"

"He did," Dolores hissed, "but he never knew of Lucius' secret account at Gringotts! We use the book, and then we show the world how we discovered the book in Malfoy's account – two birds with one stone. Try to keep up here, will you?"

"Sorry," Ron said jerkily. Hermione noticed his glance shift imperceptibly to the two women who were lifeless as they hung stretched from their wrist. She felt bile rise to her throat. He was obviously _excited_ at the prospect of getting to have sex with one of them. Rape, actually. Fucking bastard.

"Why do I need to see this, Harry? How in the hell would it help me forgive Ron?" Hermione whispered furiously under her breath.

As Harry opened his mouth to answer Hermione, she wished she hadn't spoken and had kept mum instead. Before she could react however, she saw Dolores raise her wand and shout, "_Homenum Revelio!_ _Stupefy!_"

Her grin stretched further as Hermione felt warmth trickling all over her body. The Disllusionment Charm had worn off.

"I _told_ you I heard someone."

* * *

"MOTHER! GRANGER'S MISSING!"

Narcissa's eyes flew open. She placed a hand over her chest to silently coax her heartbeat into regular patterns.

Slipping out of bed much faster than she would have preferred, Narcissa walked out of her bedroom to see Draco pacing about the hall, wincing horribly with each step.

"Draco," she scolded, "sit down right now! If you move anymore you will undo all of Hermione's healing progress –"

"Don't fucking tell me what to do right now –"

"Stop it," Narcissa said coolly. Malfoy men needed to hear logic, not pleading tones or tones of shock. "You said she was missing. What indicated –"

"Her bed was empty," Draco answered, cutting his mother off, "and don't look at me like that. If she had gone any further than this house she would have alerted me. Her wand's missing too."

Narcissa drew in a sharp breath. She dreaded the question she had to ask next. It made her heart crumble a little. "And what about – what about"

"Rose is fine," Draco replied a little less edgy this time. It surprised him, somewhat to see the amount of worry that dawned onto his mother's face as she thought about Rose of all people. "She's asleep…in our room."

"Right," Narcissa replied, her voice a little wobbly. "All the same, I should check on her."

"I told you she's fine –"

"Your rant could have woken her up," Narcissa was walking as fast as she could now, not really looking back to wait for her son's approval.

"But I cast a Silencing Charm…"Draco muttered quietly, quite sure that even if his mother heard that she would have ignored it.

Draco continued pacing as his mother returned moments later, cradling Rose close to her. Draco frowned and wondered why his mother would risk waking up a child.

"Your attacker obviously entered your room and took Hermione with him," Narcissa explained. "It's just not safe to leave her like that."

"Fuck," Draco groused, running a hand over his face. He had been so preoccupied with Hermione missing that he hadn't bothered to think about Hermione being kidnapped. He simply assumed she had what…walked into the hands of the attacker? "Mother I - I – you don't think –"

"No," Narcissa replied firmly. "By the looks of your room she wasn't taken by force. _Don't_ let your mind go down there, Draco."

There was a whooshing sound by the fireplace and Draco jumped, not really caring that every bone in his body protested against it. _She was back_. It was over now –

_Except_ the fact that it was a pale, red-headed figure that tumbled out of the fireplace.

"Harry's in trouble," Ginny said, her voice wavering. Draco had seen this woman in many shades of emotion. Even more so as he got acquainted with her over the past few weeks, but he had never seen Ginny to look so pale and…_frightened._

"Hermione's missing," Draco replied swiftly, his brows furrowing. "I noticed about twenty minutes ago. How do you know Harry's in trouble? Was he taken from bed too?"

Ginny shook her head, her hair cascading a little further down her shoulders. "We have a Galleon, that Hermione charmed back form the days at the DA…Harry and I still use it, you know, for when he is away during missions…it's just he keeps me informed if he's in any immediate danger…and it burned so hot tonight."

Draco let out a shaky laugh. "But that – that could mean anything? It doesn't mean Granger's with him, or if he's in trouble –"

Ginny made no comment but opened her balled fist to reveal the coin that was enclosed in it. Draco peered in to get a better look at the barely there writing.

_Trouble. Hermione. R U_

"_Are you_? Are you _what_?" Draco shouted, startling the pregnant witch in front of him. "What the fuck is that supposed to fucking mean?"

"Draco! Enough!" It was Narcissa who spoke now, her face full of determined fury. "You will stop shouting at Ginevra like that! She is with a child and shocking her that way can do a lot of damage!"

Draco raked a hand through his hair, regretting his actions for a brief second. It was a mere second however. His mind immediately wandered back to Hermione and what sort of trouble she was currently in.

"Thanks…and please, call me Ginny," Ginny quietly said, smiling a feeble thanks at Narcissa. Turning back to Draco she said, "I think the message was not meant to be cryptic. Harry probably tried to do it non-verbally, which could indicate that he was Stunned or without a wand and he's never really been good at non-verbal –"

"Yeah, well, when has Boy Wonder ever been good at anything other than knocking you up?" Draco sneered, not caring as Ginny looked as hurt as he felt.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Ginny said, coldly. She had lost her slightly disoriented look and a new one was creeping up her face. "You sodding shit bag, stop taking it out on me! I came here for help, because I thought you would be of _some_ help. But you're acting like a fucking _maniac_!"

"Well, sorry maniacal is what I'm like when my fucking girlfriend goes missing in the dead of the night!"

"Don't you think I'm scared too? My_ husband's_ could very possibly be dead! And I'm sure he's out putting his neck on the line for _your_ girlfriend –"

"_Silencio_."

Ginny and Draco stood toe to toe, their mouths open but no sound emerging. They both looked furiously at Narcissa.

"You left me no other option," Narcissa said, eyeing the pair of them. Her other hand was stroking Rose's curls and the little girl snuggled closer to her, unaware of the heated exchange going on right in front of her. "Potter and Hermione are missing. We need to alert the Ministry. We need to make sure that this little one doesn't wake up to panicking adults and a missing mother. Do you think you could put the bickering aside for a few hours?"

Draco and Ginny nodded grudgingly. Narcissa allowed herself a small smile of triumph before lifting the spell off the pair of them.

"Malfoy!" Ginny shouted suddenly, her face contorted in fury.

Draco's head snapped back up, ready to defend himself from whatever insult she was going to throw his way, but a closer look at her face sent him flying forwards to grab her forearms. It wasn't fury – it was _pain_.

"Ginny," he breathed, "what the fuck –"

"I think I'm having a miscarriage," Ginny said, clinging onto his arms so hard that her nails were digging into her palms.

Draco dragged his eyes down to stare at her legs that were dampening with dark stains.

_What the fuck was going on_?

* * *

"Wake up. Wake _up_."

Hermione came to when a few sharp slaps met her cheek. It left her face stinging and she blinked a couple of times to adjust to the bright lights.

"Pesky little bitch, aren't you, Granger? I always hated you at Hogwarts – even when you were that young."

Hermione searched the room frantically to find harry slumped in the far corner beside the cauldron while she was tied up right next to the two naked girls. She shifted her eyes away from their bared bits.

"Yes," Umbridge commented, "Weasley here told me you were a right prude."

"Ron," Hermione shouted, immediately realizing she wasn't alone with a crazy old hag. She had a friend in here. "_Please. _Let us go – I'll do anything."

Umbridge laughed her ridiculously annoying girlish laughter. "I don't think so," she said, breathing heavily. "Your friend isn't as strong willed as you or Mr. Potter. Look. _Imperio_." Umbridge trained her wand at Ronald.

Hermione opened her mouth to scream a silent cry that never escaped the confinements of her throat as she watched Ron raise his wand and point it at Harry. "_Crucio_," his voice was hard, cold, and empty. His eyes stared ahead as Harry thrashed about wildly, screaming.

"You see, I had to use this curse on Mr. Weasley as well…he wasn't too cooperative when he realized I wanted to finish off you and Mr. Potter –"

"You foul twisted hag!" Hermione screamed.

"Is that what you think?" Umbridge asked, stepping closer, her face barely an inch from Hermione's. Her hands went to the back of Hermione's head, fisting her hair painfully.

In response, Hermione narrowed her eyes with hatred. She did the only thing she could do as she watched Umbridge smile with greater satisfaction. She spat. Umbridge recoiled hastily and it was Hermione turn to smirk.

It didn't last long, however, as Umbrindge stepped forward and slapped Hermione so hard that it left her head ringing. She could taste something metallic by the side of her mouth and she knew it was blood.

"You ungrateful Mudblood!" Umbridge screeched. "You should have stayed put with Blood Traitor Weasley here instead of corrupting Mr. Malfoy's bloodlines!"

"He hit my daughter," Hermione replied, coughing up a few spurts of blood that had clotted in her mouth. "I wasn't going to –"

"So what? You don't deserve better! And Mr. Malfoy too…his family was clean for _centuries_…this is why I'm punishing him for tarnishing something so pure! He deserves this!"

"You were as twisted as when we first met you," Hermione spat, struggling against the magical cords that bound her to the pole. "I thought you would have learnt something after having Centaurs stomp on your ugly face –"

Hermione saw stars as another slap came her way. She forced herself to concentrate on Harry's awful screams so she wouldn't loose consciousness.

"Don't talk to me like that," Umbridge said coldly. "I wanted to witness your downfall. Impregnating Astoria Greengrass and Daphne Greengrass –" she jerked her head to the two girls beside Hermione, "with Draco's child – I wonder how that would have worked out for you?"

"Shame, embarrassment that would drive you Mudblood head into hiding of course," Umbridge answered herself as Hermione's face twisted with disgust, "but you were meddlesome and now I have to keep you here."

"Fine," Hermione said in an exhausted voice. "Keep me here. But let Harry go. He has two children, Umbridge. He didn't do anything wrong –"

"You have a child too! And anyway, he is just as bad as you are. He can die and _then _you can watch Mr. Weasley help me transfer Draco's specimen into the two women – "

"You wanted to witness my downfall," Hermione reminded her coolly. "You don't have to carry out this elaborate plan now that I'm here. You could kill me and be done with it." She had to keep this woman talking. _Expecto Patronum!_ Hermione willed herself to send a Patronus for help non-verbally. She could see a feeble otter floating behind Umbridge before fading away.

"I could," Umbridge reasoned. "But I want you to watch all of this and know that your _lover_ is going to suffer with two bastard children that aren't his own…" She laughed again. "Now, wouldn't _that_ be fun?"

"You framed Draco…so you could gain access to his vaults to claim the spell that you wanted to use for Dark Magic…then you kidnapped these two women so you could perform filthy spells on them using Ron…so you could bring _us_ down?" Hermione said, comprehension dawning upon her at last.

"Very nicely done, Miss Granger," Umbridge commented dryly. "I never took you to be stupid. Mudblood yes, but stupid no."

_Expecto Patronum!_ The otter was brighter this time and Hermione decided it was good enough. Anything to get a short message across. _Harry and I are at Grimmauld Place. Umbridge and Ron. Bring reinforcements. _

That took all of her energy, and Hermione was fighting to stay conscious as her arms quaked dangerously above her.

"Weasley!" Umbridge barked, "It's time to show your ex-wife what you're capable of!"

Ron marched stoically back towards Umbridge as she trembled with glee. Handing him a vial, she waved her wand once more and trained her eyes on Hermione as she watched Ron down that potion.

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "RON! Please! Wake up! I know you're in there somewhere – you're _better_ than this! Fight her! Fight this fucking horrible toad!"

"Apparently _not_." Umbridge commented, tickled pink as Ron unzipped his trousers and walked with a determined calm towards Astoria's naked form. "NO!" Umbridge shouted, suddenly excited. "Granger first – then Greengrass."

"Ronald! Please! No!"

* * *

"Ginny, you're going to be ok," Draco reiterated as a pale and frightened Ginny clutched onto his arm so tightly it was turning pale from the lack of blood circulation.

"Don't leave me," Ginny begged, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Not the slightest chance," Draco responded, his eyes boring into the frightened witch's. It was killing him. He wanted nothing more than to find Hermione – who could very well be dead by now, he reminded himself painfully – but instead he was in the Healing Room with Ginny at St. Mungo's as the Mediwitch mutter incantation after incantation trying to stem the bleeding below.

The Healing Room lit up momentarily as Ginny's sobs echoed around its small confinements. Draco squinted his eyes, and saw a Patronous that was shaped something like a…beaver?

_Harry and I are at Grimmauld Place. Umbridge and Ron. Bring reinforcements._

"That's Hermione," Ginny said weakly. "_Go_ Draco. Now, before it's too late. Tell Harry – tell Harry that I love him."

Their eyes met in mutual understanding and Draco didn't need telling twice. He was sprinting down the corridor of St. Mungo's to the nearest Apparation Point, the ghost of Ginny's palm still etched onto his.

He turned almost immediately on the spot, Apparating to where his hurt lover was.

He was out of breath and on his knees on hardwood floors. Gasping, he forced himself to silently steady his breathing and ignore the stabbing pains on his side. He staggered to the stairs, casting all sorts of silencing and disguise charms upon himself.

Draco barely remembered climbing the stairs. All he could hear was Hermione's echoing screams from the one room situation on the highest floor with light spilling out, so he ran as fast as he could towards the light.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he saw however. Potter slumped, half dead in a corner, Umbridge cackling madly, and Weasley with his pants and boxers lowered. He hardly noticed Astoria and Daphne Greengrass.

It hurt the most to see Hermione tied and thrashing frantically against the pole as she begged the Weasel to stop whatever the hell he was doing. His rough, meaty hands were squeezing Hermione's breasts so tightly that she was nothing short of howling in pain and gasping for hair.

Draco seemed momentarily stunned, by his own loud heartbeats that threatened to engulf him whole. It was only for a moment, however, because the next second he felt unadulterated rage pouring through his veins.

"STUPEFY!" he screamed, knocking both Umbridge and Ron into a flying heap as they hit the wall opposite them and flopped lifelessly to the floor.

He walked over to Hermione, his mind racing with awful thoughts. She was fully clothed- but how far did that fucking Weasel get? He raised his wand and pointed it at the bonds that were keeping Hermione against the pole. "D-D-Diffindo," he said quietly, his voice trembling.

Hermione fell into his arms, and he caught her with surprising strength considering his newly mended ribs. "Draco, oh god, Draco…" she was sobbing, and it tore him into little fragments. He hated to see her like this.

"Shhh," he said, smoothing his hand over her hair. "It's okay, it's over now. I've got you…"

"H-Harry," Hermione replied, lifting her head from his chest for a moment. "He was under the Cruciatus Curse for quite a while…I'm scared, Draco…he passed out – I just –I can't. Please – you…you check. "

Draco nodded, moving over to Potter. "_Envervate_," he muttered. Nothing. He could hear Hermione's guttural sob behind him. "_Enervate_," he tried again. Slowly, Potter's eyelids pulled back to reveal bright green. Draco never recalled being this happy to see Potter alive.

Hermione's shriek of ecstasy lasted only a second before she was running to pull her best friend up. Draco shifted away from the both of them, allowing Hermione some time with her friend.

He waved his wand and made sure Umbridge was in tightly bound by thick, magical chords. He gently lowered Astoria and Daphne, Conjuring some clothes to allow them a little of their modesty and lastly…he looked over at the half naked man who was just beginning to come around.

"Avada –"

"Draco," a soft voice interrupted the feeble green light that had come out of his wand. "You're better than that."

"No," he argued. "I'm not."

"You are," Hermione replied, stepping closer to him. "I believe that you are."

It was with extreme difficulty that Draco lowered his wand and looked at his witch. She didn't have a pleading or begging look. It was…confidence. She had the faith that he would choose to be the better man.

And so he did. He lowered his wand, but not before sending a curse that made Ron's face erupt with tentacles. It certainly didn't kill him, but that was good enough for now.

* * *

"This is all my fucking fault," Harry moaned into his hands. "I shouldn't- "

"You couldn't have known, Potter," Draco interjected quietly. "You shouldn't have, but you still couldn't have known this was going to happen to your wife or Hermione - so shut up with the blaming yourself."

They were gathered around Ginny's bedside. After reporting the incident to the Ministry, Kingsley had seen to it that Ron and Umbridge were given life sentences in Azkaban after double confirming the details of the incident using the memories he had extracted from Harry and Hermione.

It was hard for Draco, watching the memories, knowing exactly how Umbridge wanted to frame him, and to see the spineless Weasel follow her lead blindly…Merlin, he just wanted to pummel Carrot's face into the fucking ground.

Hermione had no particular desire to fill up anymore incident reports and so she and Draco hid away from everyone together with Harry who was wearing a hole in the floor of Ginny's ward. When Draco had informed them about Ginny's condition, he never thought he could see someone pale so quickly.

They were immensely thankful that the baby going to be okay, but the Mediwitch had informed them that Ginny's body had taken up a considerable amount of stress and it might even take hours for Ginny to wake up.

"Where's Molly? And Arthur?" Hermione asked quietly, from where she was curled up by the squishy chair. "Have you informed them, Harry? Do you want me –"

"They're saying their goodbyes with Ron," Harry informed her shortly. He was evidently stressed out by his wife's delay to return to consciousness, and it was diffusing into the air around them.

Hermione felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she thought about Ron. Draco's eyes flickered over to where she was and he walked the few shrot steps to cover the distance that separated them.

"It's not your fault," he repeated, whispering this time.

Hermione shook her head, and answered in a trembling voice, "We were friends once upon a time…it's just sad to see him go down this way."

Draco's jaw clicked furiously. He couldn't begin to fathom how Hermione could even feel the tiniest speck of sorry for Ron. His anger went into overdrive when the Healer was examining Hermione earlier and pronounced the ugly bruises on her best nothing short of _brutal_. Draco had sworn it wasn't worth it to miss out on Avada-ing the Weasel.

"Why does Draco look really constipated?" a scratchy voice asked.

Hermione screamed with utter delight and Harry yelped so loudly, that it made Draco jump a little. He watched as Harry and Hermione raced to Ginny's bed. He hung back a little, wanting to give them their own space.

"Ginny, I'm _so_ sorry –"

"Hush," Ginny said, sweetly kissing her husband, as Hermione watched through her tears. "I'll deal with you later…right now I'm just glad that you're okay."

Harry nodded, nuzzling his nose against hers. "I love you, Gin."

"I know," Ginny whispered as she struggled to sit up for a little. Her hand instinctively went to her tiny baby bump, and she sighed with relief when she found the slightly hardened bump. She didn't miscarry after all.

"The Mediwitch said you suffered quite a shock," Harry explained. "But the baby is safe because you got here on time…and you should be good too, as long as you remain on bed rest over the next few weeks."

Ginny nodded, not looking at her husband or best friend, but looking at Draco instead. "Thank you, Draco…" she said, her voice laced with sincerity. "If it wasn't for your quick actions I'm pretty sure I would have lost my child today."

"It's not a problem," Draco mumbled, not really used to receiving compliments. He hadn't really filled in Hermione or Harry about how Ginny had arrived at St. Mungo's – just that she was here. Hermione was beaming at him, and he felt instant heat radiating throughout his body.

"So…tell me what happened," Ginny implored, looking from Harry to Hermione.

"I put Ron back on the Trace," Harry began, "so I could track him, and that's where we were tonight Gin…"

Draco allowed his mind to shift its focus away from Harry's ramblings for a moment. He was studying Hermione who was giving him the oddest of looks. With a slight tilt of her head, she quietly excused them both and signaled for Draco to join her outside.

Once they were outside, Hermione's face was contorted in confusion.

"Granger –"

"_How_ could you!"

"W-what?" Draco stuttered, taken aback by her sudden fury. "How could I what?"

"You have three broken ribs, Draco Malfoy! _Three!_ And I just realized that you still came to Grimmauld Place without any backup? Are bloody _insane_?"

Draco sighed frustratedly. This was _not_ happening. Not right now, when all he wanted o do was collapse into a temporary comatose. "It was fucking instinct to come for you, Granger. I saw your fucking Patronous –"

"But that didn't mean you needed to jump into it! You could have alerted Kingsley –" Hermione countered heatedly, walking towards him.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Draco shouted now, matching her tone, "I get a fucking cryptic message you're in trouble, and you want me to waste time _informing_ people?" He raked a hand through his hair, feeling exhaustion in his bones.

"It's the sensible thing to do!" Hermione shouted back, waving her arms madly. They were inches from each other, and Draco could feel her anger radiating towards him, although he honestly didn't know what he did to be on this end of her rage.

"Is there a point to this insane argument? Or do you just _love_ to engage in completely fucked up logic, which is why you left bed and _informed_ everyone –"

"This _isn't _about me! You could have died! You're barely strong enough to walk and you engage in this entire heroic act –" Hermione screamed, pointing her finger into his chest.

"I did it for you! I didn't want you to die! I don't _know_ how to live with myself if I sat back to watch you die! Do you fucking understand me, Granger?" Draco said fiercely, looking down into her chocolately eyes.

She opened her mouth to argue, but Draco leaned down and engulfed her in a kiss. It wasn't really to silence her. It was more so because he had no other way of letting her know that she meant the world to him – and he was ready to give up his life for her.

He could taste salt, and wetness, so he raised his thumbs to wipe away the offensive tears that stained Hermione's cheeks. "I love you," he said gruffly, "and I'm ready to die for you, Hermione Granger, so please don't make me defend my actions tonight, because if I had to do it over, I would do it the same."

"I love you too, Draco," Hermione choked out. "I- I'm sorry for putting your life in danger _again_."

"You didn't," Draco insisted. "If roles were revered, you would have done the same for me. Although I rather wished you wouldn't, of course." He heard Hermione giggle and he felt immensely better.

A sharp prod in his back found Harry standing behind them, the ward door ajar.

"We heard your – er- melodic tones," Ginny quipped from the bed. Hermione could see that she had been crying moments earlier. There were fresh tear tracks down her cheeks. "I told Harry to check up on you two."

"We're okay," Hermione replied, smiling at Ginny. "Just a little tired from today."

"Is – is – is it true?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione. "About Ron?"

Hermione nodded in reply, too afraid to speak. One more word about this and she was sure she was going to lose it completely in front of her friends. She was barely hanging on.

"Well," Ginny replied, sniffling heavily. "That's that, then." She averted her eyes and began to sob silently.

"We should go," Draco stated awkwardly.

Harry sighed in response. He looked so much older than twenty-five. "I'll pop by later, alright?" He was shutting the door and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

They barely exchanged words as they walked to the nearest Apparation point – both immensely drained from earlier events. Draco simply looped his hand around Hermione's waist, and guided her along the best he could to their next destination – home.


End file.
